Silly Poem – Pink Lippy

Written whilst in Prado, looking out up at a statue of Thomas Gainsborough, lording it over the activities of the Avon lady’s market stall.   Gainsborough lords it high above cerise-pink hood; a flower above all flowers – its bed of make-up puckering lips up for a kiss. Gainsborough smiles, his lips all pink and…

16: Getting Out of the Kitchen

Disclaimer: I will receive a commission from Amazon if you choose to purchase a garden-storage container via the image link. Okay, so this post should really be titled ‘Getting Out of The Kitchen 1’ but, it’s really a continuation of my ‘Getting Out of The Day Job’ series – it’s just that the original blog…

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. Further…

Gainsborough’s Market

I catch a glimpse of Gainsborough’s knee. Brush and palette above it stand floating. Protruding. A man at war, with gun to kill – half-cocked – not ready. He hesitates a while – allows other men to do the job in hand. He watches, thinks, but feels unable to run. Feet frozen, tailcoat stuck. Committed….