(Inspired by a portrait on display at ‘Prada Lounge Café Bar, Sudbury.) Red on white. Orange-red perched on porcelain-white skin. Smooth-ceramic ice. Skin sloping down shoulders to deep blue. Translucent taffeta, wrapped around, hugging, enclosing. Bony elbows made soft. Melted, merged into blue paint. Watery colours, dark oceans, waves enveloping a cold, empty portrait. Head,Continue reading “Portrait of a Redhead in Blue”
Tag Archives: poetry
Recovery
Messy head. Self-doubts prodding in. Remnants of reason pushing them out. As they persist with prodding. Piercing. Prying and twisting. Distorting. Keep walking. Stop thinking. Keep pacing. Paced? Pause. Pencil. Pad. Coffee. Pit it. Copyright owned by Jay Cool, Sept 2018
Keep Moving
‘The UK will remain a leading military power,’ says Theresa May (Press Association, 30th July, 2018). Line yourselves up in orderly fashion. Keep calm. Take care! Smoothly does it. Single file! No holding hands! Best feet forward. Leave the bad soles behind. The hungry, the sick, the old and insane. Come on! Fit – toContinue reading “Keep Moving”
Wonky Perfection
My right brow soars As the left falls flat deflated. My left eye winks Whilst its partner stares immobile. My right lip sinks As the left-twin gloats ecstatic. My left jowl sags Whilst its sibling lifts delighted. My shoulder shrugs and swipes my right ear, As my hat fuzzes and free-falls to my left. Continue reading “Wonky Perfection”
The Stand
Golden locks matted and mounted upon an upturned tripod. Remnants of a life lived, displaying itself on the belly of a monster desperate for survival, desperate for another chance at living, dancing, twirling – desperate for just one more spin. Just one more stand. Copyright owned by Jay Cool, June 2018
Sagging Rear
Rear hanging in the balance, sagging through the split panels of a garden perch stuck, unliftable, wedged in and permanently planted and fused into an in-law’s trunk. A family tree conjoined – sprouting. Copyright of text & photography owned by Jay Cool, June 2018
Rooted
Deprived of roots, she lets her hair loose, shakes it down over roofs and doorways to other people’s mocked-up hovels. Homes without foundations, plastic walls floating – on clogged-up clay. Chalked-up purples and felt-tipped reds clamour for a hold, reaching up to tug down on strands of twisted cells – on tangled death – wanting,Continue reading “Rooted”
Hot Heather
Purple. A girl named Heather. A fine lady, dressed in purple silk, skirts stretched over the wire frame of a lampshade. A fit lady, lit from within. Fit for one’s bottom, and fit for display, but not fit for its purpose. The fine-fit lady, wired up and lit up, is hot. Hot, she bursts intoContinue reading “Hot Heather”
The Laughing Barnacles
An inspirational garden scene! Renewed by seaweed cloak, I gallop out from inland home, determined and brave, and seeking to find, the coast, the home of my barnacle ancestors, and my old friend, my fellow Salopian – Darwin. But, I’m held back, my path barred by a washing line, and no feet, no mare toContinue reading “The Laughing Barnacles”
Chains
A small chain to bind. An invitation. A catapult. Copyright owned by Jay Cool, June 2018
The Silly-Savvy Salopian in Suffolk: read, believe and write ... 