All Three of Me

Time is limited.  There isn’t much left of it, he said. Why then, at forty-nine has my life as myself only just started? And will the first year of my new beginning last until the end of time? Or, in the stretching, will it thin out – in the middle – with neither of the…

A Something Poem – Master of The Wait

Being ginger, I last longer, even longer than the old Duracell batteries, because the idea of me, is far, far older than the idea of the battery, and having been around for so long, I’ve had so much longer to learn, and to master, all that there can possibly be to master.  To master all…

Goddessed into 2019

Reluctant bridge crawls across from December into January failing to tip me off as the tips of my fingers reach     out    and   hold                 on s t r e t c h e d whole wholly reluctant full of holes and unretractable. Not for…

Brushed Up

‘Sunflower’ courtesy of Pixabay.com A sunflower life reaching up to the highest point before falling back down again and being painted back up to balance of the tips of a brush.   Copyright owned by Jay Cool, January 2019 Inspired by ‘Death to Paint Us’, by J. Michael Martinez.