Quirky, odd, miseverstood, she clutches at the clouds that cuddle and clasp the cords that knot together the pylons that p u l l a p a r t the pieces of themselves with prancing. Words and image by Jay Cool, February 2023
Tag Archives: Indie
The Segmented Self
I slaughter the segment of myself that is so special, that at special times, it remains especially – and self-destructively – silent. by Jay Cool, December 2022
Wrong Words
I sit and smile and sit and smile but the words that leave me behind bear no witness to the me that sits and smiles. Sits and smiles. By Jay Cool, December 2022
Some Old Man’s Bunion
I knew an old man with a bunion – it was true, it resembled an onion! Such long hairs did it sprout, that although it did pout, it wore plaits and became a Saint Trinian. By Jay Cool, August 2022 Image by OpenClipart-Vectors from Pixabay
Revealing Mr Larkin
Shadows of middle-age larking around within the mind of Philip, as he sees the elderly, mouths drooling, and is fearful of this watery reflection of skewed ripples, of the spades digging into his own disintegration. By Jay Cool, 18th August 2022 Inspired by snippets of Philip Larkin´s poetry, as featured on BBC Four´s Return toContinue reading “Revealing Mr Larkin”
Time Well-Spent
Days tumbling in on me, knocking me flat, and burying me in spent time. Copyright owned by Jay Cool, January, 2022 Header image from pixabay.com
Rebuff
They had nothing to do with each other. Not really. Nothing in the way of communication passed between them, although one, it could be argued, was a regular guest of the other. Not by way of invitation; but more in the way of a gatecrasher. Although to use the word gatecrasher might seem to implyContinue reading “Rebuff”
Living With Covid
Dreggy stomach. Confused head. Heavy arms. Covid spread? Back to bed? Changing tack. Stomach fed. No more qualms. And clear head. I stand. Copyright owned by Jay Cool, Friday 17th December, 2021
Wordinary
Words. Ordinary things that do the extraordinary. Copyright owned by Jay Cool
A Nodding Acquaintance
He nods. She nods back, unsure. Does he know her? Does she know him? He looks familiar, doesn`t he? Still, she`s not sure. Still, she would feel better, more certain, if only, he had left her with – before he passed on by – sure, if only he had left her with the surety ofContinue reading “A Nodding Acquaintance”