It’s odd to have a bod. It’s not that it’s a bad bod. It’s just that it really is a bit of a to do to have to nod – at something so odd! Copyright owned by Jay Cool, March 2019 ‘Man’ image courtesy of Prawny on Pixabay.com
Tag Archives: poetry
Over and Out
Overly ordinary and ordered, I go on in an orderly fashion, and then I order myself over and out of it. Copyright owned by Jay Cool, March 2019 Image by realworkhard on Pixabay.com
Ticked Off!
Do I want the tick, or does the tick want me? Do I earn it, or do I run from it? If I run to it and if I sit on it, will it tip me up and suck me in? Will the sides be so steep that I’ll never return? Like the tick inContinue reading “Ticked Off!”
Distant Head
My ex, he had a distant head; and his eyes were near his nose. Like Cyclops, he looked cold and dead So instead – I kissed my toes! Copyright owned by Jay Cool, March 2019 Inspired by the phrases ‘distant head’ and ‘cold and dead’ in ‘Upon the Mountain’s Distant Head’, by William Cullen Bryant.Continue reading “Distant Head”
Is this the time?
Is this the time? I ask myself. Is this the time to write my part? Am I too late to make my mark, to give up work and make a start? And, if I choose to make that start, will I finish before I part? Is there a time? I ask myself. A time toContinue reading “Is this the time?”
Carsuming
Your car consumes me. I get in and it rolls backwards down the drive before I’ve even shut the door, trying to take me with it, trying to swallow me, but failing. Failure rises up from the floor, trying to nip me, trying to grab another chance to mix me in with its tides ofContinue reading “Carsuming”
Mum of the Moment
‘Leafy scarf of Rust-Brown Silk’ by Jay Cool Grey-coated with leafy scarf of rust-brown silk and brooch of oyster pearls framing dark-brown curls, cycling over concrete of autumns gone. I see her. Copyright owned by Jay Cool, October 2018
Back and Out
Boxed in. Your letters, your handiwork, your loving endearments, underlined with rage, with jealousy and possession. Sent to me, not to be uplifted, not to sit proud – up there on my shelf. Not that. Sent, instead, with intention; the intention to download, to crush, to weigh me down, to hold me in servitudeContinue reading “Back and Out”
Futility
Words fall, sticking fast to my feet – pieces of double-sided stickiness. I try to pull them off, tugging at them. Fingers, sticking to words, sticking to my feet. No way of sorting, assembling or synthesising the words into sentences or any semblance of sense, or senselessness; and seeing the futility, feeling sensible andContinue reading “Futility”
Inflamed Toe
Crooked, cursed and cranky, my toe cries out, conspiratorially, as it collaborates with the tears of a conscience cut by critical commentaries of crimes never committed. Copyright owned by Jay Cool, February 2019 Influenced by Edward Bullmore’s book, ‘The Inflamed Mind: A Radical new approach to depression’ (Short Books, UK, 2018). Image of feet,Continue reading “Inflamed Toe”
The Silly-Savvy Salopian in Suffolk: read, believe and write ... 