Day 6.3: Doomed in Dawley

It’s almost 4pm, and the day is over before it has begun. Over with a trip down Memory Lane to Telford’s Tesco store. Has my ancestral home of Dawley been subsumed by a supermarket’s bid to take over the world? I came to Shropshire to find traces of my Dawley DNA, and I’m here drinkingContinue reading “Day 6.3: Doomed in Dawley”

Expiration

Expiration is not my desire. ‘Autumn Tree’ by Jay Cool To don an orange wig is not to wear a portent, or to be tree laden with oranges midst autumn leaves of speckled brown, muted tan or luminous yellow; a sign of the seasons, confused, muddled and merging into one. For years and years, IContinue reading “Expiration”

Poppy

  ‘Poppy on East Hill, Sudbury’ by Jay Cool Poppy is a blood-red word, No pulse, now lost No heartbeat, hampered Called out for World War’s cost. Yet poppies, red and proud, Sit high atop Linen suits in crowds Giving life to men’s non-stop Legs that march to beat of drum As sockets swing Arms,Continue reading “Poppy”

Love Thyself

{Inspired by my ancestor William Wycherley’s lust for women of all varieties: ‘For Variety in Love’.} ‘Telephone Pole’ image from Pixabay.com (creative commons) To myself, I am devoted still, I’ll n’er grow bored, or have my fill, ’tis true that in my heart am I, Stuck thick as thieves to my great thigh! My thigh, it’sContinue reading “Love Thyself”

Washed-Out Socks

‘Washed Socks’ by Jay Cool Pink socks, and green, hanging out to dry – mingling into amber. A shade that suits a sallow skin – the ageing flakes of yellowed feet. Shreds and slivers, peels of the past, hanging. Copyright owned by Jay Cool, October 2018

Purple Berry

‘Purple Berry’ photograph by Jay Cool Purple berry’s twisted fate. Dried, dying, dangling, midst cherry pinks. Thirsty channel’s wearied weight Stretched, straining, slipping, t’wards motley greens. Salmon ball-gown’s awkward gait, Flustered, flipping, falling ‘mongst tawny golds. Middling ladies’ tired fate. Dried, dying, dangling midst hoary whites of ageing, ancient, trite old men – the last-chanceContinue reading “Purple Berry”

Guest Preacher

{Based on a childhood memory of an over-zealous guest preacher in an Aberdonian chapel, and further inspired by George Herbert’s poem ‘The Collar’. } ‘Angry Debate’, a clipart image from Pixabay.com He strikes the board. Preacher’s passion’s way. Heed his words, that God does say. Wrinkled hands must dig in deep, unearth the worms from burrows,Continue reading “Guest Preacher”

Love is a Bin

‘Wetherlite in Prado’ by Jay Cool Love is a Bin [A tribute to a lonely-green bin, viewed from a Prado window.] A green bin, super-sized, groans, as old lady swishes by in electric chair; wheels loving the rain. And old man, on pavement over, wheeled and water-eeled – follows on – unknowing, taking over. GreenContinue reading “Love is a Bin”

Lady

{Arrived home, one afternoon in October, to a welcoming party of ladybirds.}   Lady Ladies welcome me back, welcome me home, framing my door, sealing my windows, guarding my post. A warning? A storm? Tsunami? A famine? The end? Or the start of tomorrow? Opening my door, I move on through – flying in theContinue reading “Lady”

On Wenlock Edge

Photography by Jay Cool On Wenlock Edge, Jay Cool’s in trouble. With frizzed-up fringe, the Wrekin heaves; The gale, it plies her old bones double, And sick of Severn breeze, she leaves. ‘Twould blow like this through holt and hanger. When Uricon the city stood. The Roman farts, expressing anger, At Jay Cool’s claim toContinue reading “On Wenlock Edge”