A baby. No mother. A lesbian. A fling. And a hammer swing. Shotgun pellets. Stab attack. And a drill. Tributes to a King. And Mimi in trouble. All wrapped up in a Metro bubble. Lost lives and rubble. Trapped. Copyright owned by Jay Cool, June 8th, 2018
Tag Archives: poetry
Today
Today’s the day my feet step out – Yesterday, snow drifts so tall that I swam in them surfed on them sailed on them into beyond into today. Yesterday, my mind went out. Today, ……….my feet. Copyright owned by Jay Cool, March 2018
Dug-Out
Pencil-black brows, Painted-pink overflow, Sludge-brown pasted over, Features Still to be Dug-out. A baby at sixteen years, Still to be born. Copyright owned by Jay Cool
Beyond Southwold Pier
Step out. Walk the golden footpath. Transcend normality. Shiny pebbles underfoot. Grinding, then separating. Threatening, pulling, wrapping around plimsoll-clad feet. Waves teasing. Follow on. Step out. Copyright owned by Jay Cool
Pakefield Pirates
The pirate flag Beckons Calls me over Invites me to walk on in to an old railway carriage and help myself to coffee and cakes Served in beer kegs and arranged in treasure chest baskets I hurry on up the lane, to the corner plot A station sign offers up to the visitor Pakefield WelcomingContinue reading “Pakefield Pirates”
The Pakefield Ladies
Hunched-up ladies huddle by the sea Shivering, wrapped up in the sun. Tied up in coarse rope. Anchored to the pebbled beach. Unable to even shuffle. Howling unintelligible tones. Gagged. And blinded. Path markers. All routes out long gone. Copyright ownedContinue reading “The Pakefield Ladies”
Pakefield Sea Front
Waves. Waves walking towards me as I sit drinking tea at a pub by the sea Thinking about fish running beneath the surface of the Milky swirl of the tea as I swish my teaspoon around Making whirlpools Kites ripple and twirl around in the seaContinue reading “Pakefield Sea Front”
House Thieves in a Fruit Bowl
Apples, Bananas, Grapes, Oranges And pears House thieves in a fruit bowl. Imagine instead … A mouldy green tennis ball, A plastic crescent yellow moon, A tonne of purple pom-poms, A squidgy-orange stress ball, And a well-fed Martian with his bald head sinking into his torso and sacks of flesh flowing over his tiny teeteringContinue reading “House Thieves in a Fruit Bowl”
Golden Eggs
Eggs sizzling in the rivers of fat from the bacon, sausages and black pudding of others As they pile on the pounds that threaten to consume them, to suck them into their own vortex, their own centre of gravity, the iris of the self. A black dot contracting and expanding.Continue reading “Golden Eggs”
Facebook Reunion
Re-emergence of old friends. Ancient connections. Whispered notes in tutorials. Student cars. Minis, 2CVs and Morris Minors. Starving, suicidal acquaintances raced into surgeries, collapsing into the future. In journeys long gone. And misremembered. False recollections. Old cells died and replaced. Recharged. Copyright owned by Jay Cool Image: Photo of 2CV from PXhere, aContinue reading “Facebook Reunion”
The Silly-Savvy Salopian in Suffolk: read, believe and write ... 