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”

Uptrodden

Down-seating myself for to eat, in company, I find that hungry I am not, just dislocated, bewildered, out of touch with a core of me that is no longer where it used to be, nor even where I expect to find it. Copyright of text and image owned by Jay Cool, 3rd September, 2021 (A4Continue reading “Uptrodden”

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”

Tiers

Tiers Wedding cakes, ra-ra skirts and playhouses; scrumptious, trendy and entertaining. Layers and layers of fun. Tough tiers? Restrictive, lonely, dull. Necessary. Piling up. Mounting layers, upon layers, upon layers of creativity. Individual, multi-faceted, oodles and oodles of fun. The self, unrestricted. Copyright owned by Jay Cool, Nov 26, 2020 Image by Natalie White fromContinue reading “Tiers”

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