The Travesty of The Ping

Locked in for eight days; just two more to go, before setting foot on the – Not yet. Not even one foot in and the other one out, and yet, today, I hear, not from the app, but from a voice transmitted upon radio waves: “It is not illegal, people must remember, to go outContinue reading “The Travesty of The Ping”

Looking At Where I Am

A poem inspired by Boris Johnsons Brexit negotiations, as reported by, BBC2 Newsnight, 10 December 2020. Looking at where I am, I find myself at a dinner table, in Brussels, and devoid of the anticipated fish dinner, feeling downbeat, hungry, full of regrets and with just three weeks to go before my people, The British,Continue reading “Looking At Where I Am”

Of Most Concern

Of Most Concern It concerns me, mostly, that of most concern is my concern that most of us have no concern for the concerns of others whatsover, insomuch as that, mostly, most of us have no concern whatsoever about being the cause of those concerns. And that really does, and inordinately so, concern me. CopyrightContinue reading “Of Most Concern”

Lockdown Dance

Lockdown Dance Lonely in lockdown I keep company with the colours of the many versions of myself, all of them, dancing, wriggling, moving and shifting, adjusting to a new idea of what it is to be alive and thriving a life-force, freeing themselves up from the conventions of what it once was to be constrained,Continue reading “Lockdown Dance”

`Measly, Nasty Cut`

‘Measly, Nasty Cut‘ With ease, he calls it measly, a nasty, nasty cut, but how can a cut be measly, when a cut is a lot less than a gash? Copyright of poem owned by Jay Cool, November 2020 Written in response to a response (quoted from a guest on Channel 4 News, 7pm, NovContinue reading “`Measly, Nasty Cut`”

Scrunch

Scrunch Disgust. Scrunch. Wrinkle. A mistake, a mere typo, a masterpiece, rejected by its author, scrunched up tight and thrown at Unwashed hair, with frizzy ends and greasy roots, scrunched up into a top-knot to A scrunched up nose, wrinkled, its wearer`s disgust disguised by And all of it with no need for any ofContinue reading “Scrunch”

Total Lockdown – A Poem

Locked in. Sprogs at school. Hubby at work. All breathing, mixing, inhaling. And all due to return soon. And here I am. A mum locked in. A sitting duck. Waiting. As always. Copyright owned by Jay Cool Image by Manfred Richter from Pixabay