Magnificence: A Savvy Poem

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I colour my life up in orange,          MAGNIFICENCE!

shades of mangoes and marigolds,

to make me feel like there is more of me,

and that the more of me shines more and more,

like the red-orange river of gold that ran away from me,

chased away by the mocking morons who laughed all the more,

as they marvelled; marvelled at the silent tones of my distress, as my

tresses, distancing themselves, escaped – swirling and coiling around mountains,

mingling and merging the orangeness of me into sheets of purple heather on mossy

slopes that, only now, rise up into

 

 

Copyright owned by Jay Cool, June 2019

 

Image by congerdesign from Pixabay

 

Please read more poems by Jay Cool:

 

Travel Log

Purple Berry

 

Travel Log: A Savvy Poem

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I unravel myself and,

stretched out,

feeling full,

I traverse the River Humber,

leaving my beginning

where part of me began,

in Grimsby,

and my middle, over the other side in                                              Yorkshire.

In Yorkshire, I converse with the sheep,

abandoning the skies of Hull –

the old ladies in their tower-top traps –

to rattle out a verse about the even toes of ungulates.

I settle, in a stone cottage,

and, feeling myself  u n r a v e l l  i   n     g                       more,

wonder where next, I might                                                             end up, to

begin again.

Copyright owned by Jay Cool, June 2019

Image by Claire Boyles from Pixabay

Please read further fab poems by Jay Cool:

Fluttery Outlines

Tutorial Notes

27: Interesting

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Interesting.

Interesting that my shortest post, in this series, Knackered, has received a bumper number of viewings! I can only conclude from this, that the whole world, including the people in it, is knackered. ‘Is’ being the appropriate tense of verb to use because, in all being knackered, we are all as one, i.e. knackered.

Definitely think I’m getting the knack of this ‘knackered’ lark. Tragically, being a wee bit odd, as I am (needs declaring, as I’m guessing you haven’t noticed), I don’t have any desire to be at one with everyone else in this small world. Sure, there are lots of great, funny and compassionate people out there, but there are also an awful lot of …

… wa***ers!

And, oddly enough, being odd, I have no wish whatsoever to join the wa**ers.

Hence, in case again you haven’t noticed, hence the reason why I am Getting Out of one of the many factions of the wa__erhood!

There are, of course, many issues behind my wish to disassociate myself from the wa**erhood, and plenty to be the subject of forthcoming wa**erhood posts but, for this particular moment in my very interesting life (i.e I really don’t have time to write about all of them now), this reason will have to suffice:

The Problem with the Wa**erhood in General

A bold and brave guest on BBC Radio this morning (no idea who), summed the situation up perfectly when airing his views about the current state of British industry. Companies appoint their own guiding bodies, and then, when criticised for any of their ridiculous actions, state that all was perfectly above both formal and informal law, because, as legally and morally obliged to do, they took advice from their guides. They did, therefore, as they always do, exactly the right thing on every single decision that they have been, are and will be questioned about by their own employees and by the public in general. The Wa**erhood, therefore, can never be wrong, which means that they will for now and evermore remain ..

… wa**ers.

************************

And, now that I have the attention of all the non-wa**ers, and all the want-to-be-a-non-wa**er out there, it’s time to get back to the serious business, and the sole reason for this blog – me!

Today, is my day off from my faction. Today, I do not have to suffer the prickles of anxiety, as worries about how my colleagues view me intrude upon my thoughts. I do not have to but, at this moment, I still am.

As any of my readers with any ability to empathise will know (i.e. pretty sure that all humans go through the same experience at some point in their lives, if not all through their lives), then one of the issues with trying to shake off the influence of the faction, is that its side-effects have a tendency to linger. It’s a lot like having your hands covered in paper glue that doesn’t want to leave you. It sticks to one’s hand, until it is subjected to the slow and tedious process of being peeled off strip by strip. And, even when the stripping process seems to be over, one’s hands still feel more than a little red, raw and bloody. Hence, this morning, I still feel shaky and jittery and the outer shell of my head still feels like it is tightening up, in preparation for subjecting all matters that might lie within to the crusher

And the cure?

I am the cure. Only, I, Jay Cool can cure myself. Only, I can defend my boundaries against fresh invasions of the Wa**erhood. Only I can can make sure that all that all attacks are relegated to the land that lies beyond. Luckily, I have my laptop and an account with WordPress. I am the island castle; my laptop is my moat, and together, with a little help from WordPress, we will take control of the drawbridge.

Fellow nutters – you are welcome!

Wa**ers – don’t bother setting up your base camp on my borders! Sod off!

And, having dealt with that lot, perhaps it’s time. Time to plop, scrub, dress in appropriate attire (my pink tutu?), grab my broomstick, and zoom on down from my mountain-top cave. (Oops, did I claim to be living in a castle on an island?)

 

Copyright owned by I, Jay Cool, The Silly-Savvy Salopian in Suffolk, June 2019

 

P.S. On the topic of islands, then I must take the opportunity to reveal to you one of my favourite childhood (and adulthood) reads. Nothing beats reading about the adventures of a group of sprogs, left to their own devices, on an island in the middle of nowhere. And, no, I’m not talking about that awful book in which Piggy gets murdered. That’s just depressing! I’m talking about Enid Blyton’s ‘The Secret Island’! Book review coming up shortly!

26: Knackered

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Knackered.

Far too knackered to even write this post.

So I’m giving up!

 

Copyright owned by Jay Cool, June 2019

 

Image by Julie Louis from Pixabay

 

P.S. Must have been knackered. Wrote the above three sentences yesterday. Today, on my return from another day on the slog, I looked for this post to check on my viewings. Couldn’t find it anywhere. Decided I must have imagined writing it.

Finally found it! I’d published it as new page, rather than a post, just seconds before I conked out!

25: Twaddle

Sun. Flowers. Sketching. Writing. Happiness.

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Just about sums up the last week! All was grand, until …

… today!

After yesterday’s prevarication, I’m surprised to find myself awake an hour before I need to be.

Going back to work isn’t going to be so dreadful after all!

But, there’s no point getting up before I have to, so I try to get some more shut-eye. It doesn’t happen; at least it doesn’t happen until about five minutes prior to my alarm going off.

Oh … not so wide awake after all!

I prise myself away from the soft pillows and comfy quilt (i.e. flat pillow with massive-dippy bit in the middle and a quilt on a starvation diet!), and attempt to splash some enthusiasm into my morning via a plop and a flush. It doesn’t work, so I do a return trip.

Plop and flush the second.

The third?

Can’t squeeze that one out, so I give up and stumble over to the sink for a water and soap washing ritual. But the warm water only makes me want to jump back into my even-warmer bed. Resisting the call, I resign myself to the inevitable.

Coffee. Porridge. Coffee. The third plop*. And DD! (Before you ask, then yes I did wash my hands after the plop part; DD has standards!) I get a firm hold on DD’s steering wheel, and she stutters her way up the hill, before showing off with a neat U-turn.

DD judders back down the hill -and stalls! Stops in exactly the same place we started out at – my cave! She informs me that I need to re-enter my abode to pick up my mobile phone.

‘Good thinking, DD! Judging by the distance you’ve covered so far, I might need access to the emergency-breakdown guys (sexist, I know – but no female has ever come and rescued me from DD, or any other, claptrap of an old banger!).’

I collect my Nokia and jump back into the driver’s seat, just in time; as, in spite of all the acting with the stalling and stuttering, DD’s now revving it up! Why she’s now so keen,  I have no idea. If I don’t want to return to the day job, then neither should she. Still, all she has to do, whilst I’m being zapped of all strength, is to sit in the staff carpark under the shade of a beautiful tree. So lazy is she, that she doesn’t even attempt to swipe away any nasty bird droppings.

The day may not have started so well, i.e. I had to get up at 6am, but, nonetheless, I bounce into work full of zing, knowing that I can do this!

Only three months to go, before I give the day job up for good (until, and if, I run out of funds (i.e. read my book reviews** and buy, buy, buy!)).

The day ends.

DD awaits. She’s appreciated.

My bounce is dead.

I’m all people-politicked out. By the time DD gets me home, the old voice of anxiety has wormed its way back into my life. Why do I feel so bad? Did the day job do this, or can I blame the cloud cover and rainfall?

Yesterday, I blogged about tutus, roundabouts and flowers. This evening, I feel like a no-hoper and, even worse, Hubby’s turned the TV on to watch Love Island. Great expanses of glossy flesh and not a single contestant who can construct a sentence without the compulsive inclusion of a ‘like’ or a ‘f**k’!

What is going on? Hubby must be having an old-life crisis! Never before, like, have I known him to put the TV on, like, to deliberately, watch a ******* load of twaddle!

Newsflash: The blonde one has introduced another word into her repertoire:

‘You seem so nice, like, know what I mean, like?’

Oddly enough, it’s time for a newsflash of my own:

I, Jay Cool, am nasty, and there is nothing at all to like about any of the irritatingly ‘nice’ load of sick-buckets swearing their hearts out on Loved-Up Island!

Haven’t they got day jobs to clear off to?

Copyright owned by Jay Cool, June 2019

 

 

*For anyone out there who has plop phobia, and who considers the whole loo thing to be rather juvenile, why did you read the rest of my blog? YOU DIDN’T? Well, go back and finish reading it then!

**Links to book reviews coming up:

Disclaimer: The links below click through to post that have links to Amazon, from whom I receive a small commission at no extra cost to yourself, should you choose to make a purchase.

Eating Pies: Book Reviews

Look at Zoos: Book Review

Hinch Yourself Happy: Book Review

24: Hedgerows

So where did I leave you last time? Oh, yes – I was about to do my preparation for going back to The Day Job tomorrow. And, am I? Well, yes I am doing some prep, but – it’s not for my employer!

And, is that a bad thing? No! Daylight’s calling and I’m slipping out of my cave for another adventure.

And just look at what I’ve found!

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So much to see, within half-a-mile of my cave door – and so much more effective than anti-depressant drugs!

So much ethereal beauty – in all shapes and forms, and all rooted into the strangest of places!

Let’s save the treasures in the hedgerows – before they fade away forever!

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I’d like to lie down in this bed of daisies, on my local bypass, but there’s a fair amount of traffic whizzing past so, in a rare moment of timidity, I decide to deprive the drivers of a rare treat!

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Needs must, though, and I’m now back in front of my laptop, having momentary thoughts about doing some prep for tomorrow. Facebook gets into my head and sends me off track. For some reason, I’m perusing the local gossip page. And, for some reason, some lady is complaining about the lack of pruning out and about the town, particularly with regards to the kerb-sides and hedgerows of our suburban housing estates …

COLLAGEN5

 

 

So glad the council are SO neglectful!

I guess we all see what we want to see … and the anti-depressant drugs probably do help (just a little bit)!

 

Copyright of text and photos owned by Jay Cool, June 2019

 

P.S. Just getting on to the day-job prep!

 

Getting Out of The Day Job 23: Dancer

And Like: A Savvy Poem

Hinch Yourself Happy: Book Review

 

P.P.S. I you follow Mrs Hinch on Instagram, she’s giving away some very exciting cleaning products. Unfortunately, she doesn’t appear to be offering to come and do any demonstrations!

 

 

 

23: Dancer

Read you (i.e. I read the post Read me? by the author of ‘Waking Up on the Wrong Side of 50′)!

Read all the first half, then skimmed the rest, as the thought of some tulips I spotted on the school run is luring me outside. Sitting here on my laptop watching the sunshine fading away is not the thing at this moment in time. But, loved what I read. Well-written. High-quality. Tasty!
Now, I ought to start planning for my day job tomorrow – but, it’s so sunny out there and the tulips are so red! See you later!

*******************

Update!

Made mistake of popping upstairs to check on Sprogs’ rooms. And this is what I came back downstairs with!

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Am I going to wash the lot up?

No!

Time for revenge!

‘Had an idea,’ I informed Sprog 3. ‘I’m going to take selfies of myself doing ballet poses in lots of different locations!’

‘NO, Mum! No! Don’t! I won’t ever forgive you!’

That was yesterday. Yesterday, recalling my own embarrassing parents, I felt empathy with Sprog 3’s situation. Yesterday, I thought I might just use an artist’s wooden doll as a substitute. Today?

Today, I go back upstairs and dig out my ballet tutu. Yes, I am a hoarder – I still have my childhood (teenage!) ballet gear!

A pang of conscience causes me to hesitate and I look around my study for the artist’s doll. It’s nowhere to be found. One of the sprogs must have nicked it. Suspect No. 1 is Sprog 3. She nicks everything!

Conscience gone.

I don my ballet tutu, and decide that perhaps I should experiment in a few garden locations first, i.e. my own garden (hope the neighbours are out!). But, there’s a problem! how do I get my whole self into a selfie? I can only get my face, and that’s not so attractive!

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I find my old camera – abandoned when I discovered mobile phones (very recently), set it up on my writing desk, stand back and quickly nip my hand out to press the ‘go’ button. No good! I have to crouch to be in the shot, so I can hardly go in for an arabesque. What to do? I need a photographer! But Sprog 3’s hardly going to volunteer.

Idea!

One of Sprog 3’s Barbie dolls. She doesn’t need them anymore – she’s almost a teenager. Sorted.

See you later!

********************************

I don’t of course, go and get a Barbie doll? Why? A conscience recovered? No! I’m just far too lazy to go back up two flights of stairs to find one;  plus, I might find more dirty crocks up there on the trip!

But, I’m still getting out of here. And, what’s more, I haven’t yet quite given up on the idea of me – doing the ballet poses.

I proceed across the local housing estate (but only after I can see that the very sensible old lady over the road has gone out!), and take a few neat snaps along the way:

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And I manage to cover a reasonable distance in my beautiful tutu, before …

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…I am detected. An older-than-me (so pretty old) lady is taking a happy stroll with her shopping trolley (no, she hasn’t nicked it from Tesco – it’s one of those tartan things on wheels that my Nanna Daredevil used to have!). She’s in front of me, so I’m feeling quite safe. But ..

…she turns around to faff about with the flappy bit on her trolley-bag, then jumps a bit, and looks up! I feel the need to explain myself (no need to be responsible for someone’s heart attack), and start babbling:

‘It’s okay, I’m not crazy (untrue), this is just a joke – thought I’d embarrass my daughter!’

She’s now looking positively chirpy. Smiling she responds with: ‘Bye then!’ And I conclude that either 1) she’s got a granddaughter she’d love to show up! or 2) she’s relieved that I’m moving swiftly on!

I proceed to my destination – a busy roundabout adorned with tulips and daisies. Perfect! I skip across the road and make myself comfortable in the wilderness within. Several vehicles slow down, with the drivers seeming a little distracted – this is only mildly embarrassing (hey, who am I trying to embarrass here?)! I snap away, head down in the wild.

A massive bumble-bee objects.

bumble bee

Time to head back!

*********************************

I’m rather disappointed with the resulting pics. In expression, I look distinctly like my own mother and, beautiful as she is, she is in her seventies! I try to put my finger on what exactly has brought about such a striking resemblance. Then, I get it.

nutter roundabout

Stress!

I look anxious. And I look stressed. Some might even argue that I look a tad awkward (embarrassed?)! Playing around with some edits, I decide to go for the ‘vignette’ look – best to fade myself out a bit – to round off the sharp edges!

A photographer! I know what I need – with the right crew on board, there’s no reason why I shouldn’t still make it as ballet dancer and model!

Just one small problem? Who? Who is likely to be prepared to stand in the middle of a busy roundabout taking snaps of a forty-nine-year old nutter?

Not Sprog 3!

Sprog 2?

Sprog 1?

Bribery?

**************************

Reality?

No, stop reminding me! Please stop!

Yes, I know that tomorrow I go back for my final eight or so weeks of The Day Job. And, yes, I know I have to do some preparation! And, yes, I know that this is – prevarication!

And with all of my knowledge of the knowing, I’m heading – back into my wild garden!

Hi!

stunner in wild garden

Sprog! It’s time …

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For payback!

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Hah!

Copyright of text and photos owned by Jay Cool, June 2019

 

Coming soon ….

Jay Cool in ‘The Nutcracker’. Tickets are selling out fast …

Alternatively, you can always get free entry to a Suffolk Punch Comedy Gig, e.g. Feast of the Feline!

Mechanical: A Silly-Savvy Poem

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Image by aytuguluturk from Pixabay

 

They really messed it up when they made my brain –

crossed-wires all over the place and thoughts profane.

I guess, at least if they tell me I’m not quite sane –

cool in purple wig. I can offer them champagne!

 

Copyright owned by Jay Cool, June 2019

 

Read more on:

Getting Out of The Day Job 22: Bit by Bit

Under No Circumstances

Under no circumstances must I:

sing,

fart,

dance,

or wear double-denim.

And I should not – ever!

Look like an old lady having a mid-life crisis!

 

I take this on board – it’s sound advice,

so I change my act, because there’s nothing wrong, I think,

with looking like a middle-aged lady,

and being totally and utterly

 

bonkers!

 

Copyright owned by Jay Cool, June 2019

 

P.S. Unfortunately, Google Photos disagrees, and will not allow me to link to a collage of all my most batty moments!

P.P.S. So, instead I am substituting the least embarrassing of my chart hits! Enjoy! Please note that I entered this song for BGT! One day …

Collage pending …

And here it is! (Managed to beat Google photos into submission!)

bonkers collage

 

 

 

 

 

And Like: A Savvy Poem

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Why turn up the volume?

Why drown out your own thoughts?

Listen to yourself, to your own voice – and celebrate!

Be what you were always meant to be.

Just be.

And like.

 

Copyright owned by Jay Cool, June 2019

Written in response to the post Thoughts Late at Night.

 

Drown yourself in Jay Cool by reading:

Deadly and Serious: A Silly Poem

The Drilling: A Short Story

Norma: A Savvy Poem

Steal A Style: Savvy Writing Tips

Getting Out of The Day Job 22: Bit by Bit