55: Finiarted

Finished. Finished the day job. Started my life as me. Finiarted.   Copyright owned by Jay Cool, July 2019   Image depicting my reaction a few moments ago, when Hubby returned from the supermarket minus the celebratory bottle of fizz I sent him out for, by Domenic Hoffmann from Pixabay

Ruminating

  It’s a rum old deal, to have to empty out, because, as thoughts do intrude and escalate, I keep on writing – and I start to deflate! But, the wind is so loud, when the last does escape that, at that very point – I terminate.   Copyright owned by Jay Cool, June 2019…

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…

Restlessness: A Savvy Poem

Nested. Never mind all the rest; never mind the endless tests or   the   race  to  be  best ……… or the boys who were nothing – nothing more than the rest – just pests! She wanted nothing, nothing more, and nothing less, than a place, a place for a             rest; her…

More: A Savvy Poem

No more. No more do I want any more. More would be less, from my mooring point. Take me out. Untie me. Unleash me. Let me be more of nothing more than the more of me. Copyright owned by Jay Cool, May 2019 Image by Arek Socha from Pixabay

Fruitloop

I loop myself round and round myself, travelling in and through the tunnels of meness, racing past all of the thoughts about what others think, in the certain knowledge, that it is my own thoughts of my meness that will, in the end, liberate me.   Copyright owned by Jay Cool, April 2019   Image…

Stigmental

Mental. Social stigma. Be open, discuss and share. People will get it and you won’t regret it. When the powerful know they have you ensnared. You’ve been opened, read, pinned,  labelled and bookmarked. Stigmatised, stamped on, crushed, dried, composted, buried, rotated, and s  c  a  t  t  e  r  e  d … The many seeds…

Feeling Real Fine

I lift myself up, up, up, up, and away, flying higher than high, and, somehow, it is done without trampling on anyone. Yes, it is possible to fly unaided. And, unbolstered by your underpinnings, by your transient base of ashes, I soar, on and on, soaring into infinity, everlasting and feeling, at last, but not…

Gaslit

  Gas attempts to infiltrate via the gaps between flashes of my thoughts, gut the gaps, being gaps, are gapless. Gas, failing to infiltrate, instead up ……………… and I shine across ————————–>  borders. me lights   Copyright owned by Jay Cool, April 2019      Image by calimiel from Pixabay

Roller Coaster Toxicity

  Twenty-three years of riding, elevated up and dropped right down; in the twenty-fourth year, I go coastal, and the sand in my bucket maintains my shape.   Copyright owned by Jay Cool, April 2019    Image by stokpic from Pixabay