Tag Archives: #streamofconsciousness

#SoCS – Tape #4 (part 2) – Linda G Hill

See here for Linda G Hill’s prompts and siteL

After checking back with W (at control) I was advised to ask a policeman for directions.

Upon eventually my finding a PC, strolling around inside PC World, and asking him whether I should go ‘West or East?’ I was advised that ‘West is best’ – he happened to be one of the rare ‘rhyming’ policemen of little or no value to society, apart from in a strangely poetic way.

I duly travelled due East, and landed safely in the hitherto unknown Gillingham Airport in Kent (which is close to the Isle of Thanet) at approximately a quarter to.

The secret contact was found casually leaning against the third coffee vending machine on the right (as I had almost been advised that he would be), having kept himself awake and primed for inaction by the consumption of thirty-seven cups of steaming Nitrous Coffee –

‘Guaranteed to stimulate the mind if not the body!’

I handed the contact the tape and he briefly checked it through for authenticity. Finding it to be the genuine article, the contact gave me a recipe for his Grandma’s Treacle Tart Pudding, and a copy of ‘The Tatler and the Bystander’ from 1941.

Finishing the crossword in that magazine made me realise something: that I was terrible at crosswords… and that perhaps I should have spent the intervening 17 days actually earning the pay of a spy.

Needless to say, I was demoted to Dispatch Rider (second class) and given the choice of a donkey or Shank’s Pony as my chariot of choice. Being no fool, I chose the pony.

Time for a rhyme

Have you got time

for a rhyme?


Okay, this will have to be



(“Call the Poetry Hearse

because trad poetry is dead!”)

I said

it would happen

and it did;

it has been found out,

wherever it had been hid.

Now there is nothing

but opening doors

that once were shut,

and gentle tides

on foreign shores;

all metaphors

and similar things

that no longer conform

to the old poetry laws.

Please comment upon these words

in syllables of no more than two thirds.

Saturday Shenaniganza!

Can I actually write ‘Shenaniganza’

without losing my street credibility

(What I have not got)

and retaining my unique air of mystique

(What I also have not got)

whilst still creating poetry

ghat reached exorbitant heights of skillduggery,

at a minimal costing?

Please answer in the comment area below,

if you have a theory,

or actually know.

I know that I have actually overused the word ‘actually’ above,

but my Poetic Licence has no expiry date.

And it is (without doubt) Saturday

where I am

at this moment in time (now)

even if it still Friday where you are,

or you have drifted into Sunday.

PS please enjoy ‘your’ Shenaniganza as much as I enjoy mine. All the best, G:)

Upon the opening up of a can of words

Whether you have a modern can-opener,

perhaps a traditional old style,

maybe a stab or butterfly type,

or even a Swiss Army Knife with a suitable attachment,

or an expensive electric one,

it matters not.


However you open the can (or tin)

it is not the method of opening that is important,

but the opening itself.


Words, let loose,

upon an unsuspecting poet,

or an audience of one,

are liable to cause all manner of trouble.

By the way, if you open two cans

the trouble could be double –

or even more.


Unsure openings of cans around the world

have caused some of the most virulent

outbreaks of indifference that the planet has ever been akin to.


That said, words are only dangerous

when in the wrong hands

they are left.

Bereft of care,

they may dare

to speak

to the spineless

and weak



So, be careful

if you have the thought

of releasing the canned goods

into an unrespecting,

(and unsuspecting)


that might not

have the stomach

or the appetite

for words

when set free

(or alight).

Figuratively Speaking (a SoC poem)

Figuratively speaking, I am literally no good at poetry;

my words don’t rhyme,

don’t scan,

because I can’t keep time;

my feet, are indiscreet,

and when I’m upon Poetry Street

I never feel complete,

or able to compete.

Speaking of Poetry Street;

it needs resurfacing,

and there are far too many avenues

leading off of it,

that I tend to follow,

and they always lead to a sunken mire

in which I wallow,

like a simile in a choir,

or something like that

(metaphorically speaking)

And have you ever heard a flat-earther sing?

Hypothetically and rhetorically, of course.

Or a poetical horse

rocking the rhythm and rhyme?

Maybe a tangerine dreaming of becoming

the next Milton, lost in Paradise,

gently strumming upon a 7-string guitar?

How far will I take this?

Up to here – and no more,


#SocS ‘Card’ @LindaGHill

#SoCS prompt ‘card’

See herefor all the info


“If I discard ‘this’ card…?”


“Will it be of a benefit to me?”

“I don’t think that you can be sure ‘now’ what the consequences will be. Time will tell, as they say.”

“Oh, they do do they?”

“It is a turn of phrase… an axiom… or an idiom… or something like one of those.”

“Are you saying that I am an ‘idiom?’ “

“Not in so many words, no. But, there are times when we all seem to be less than what we actually are.”

“ ‘Nobody told me there would be days like these.’ “

“Pre-cisely! “

“Quoting some lyric or other is always a way of getting my meaning across.”

“Yes. You wear it well.”

“Ha! Touché! You are always on my mind.”

“That’s neat, that is very neat.”

“Thank you for the praise.”

“By the way, I really love your tiger feet.”

“I didn’t think you’d noticed.”

“Not notice! They are the finest in the whole of the zoo.”

“Well, there are only the two of us here. Hardly a one in a million is it?”

“Fifty ways to leave your plover!”

“Really? We are on to punning song titles now?”

“You have to do something to pass the time.”

“True. You can’t* even get a decent crossword to do around here.”

*The 10-minute timer that I had set went off here – luckily for you, otherwise I would have been off along the various other paths that this was leading to.

S-o-C-Saturday #SoCS Linda G Hill’s ‘Hot & Cold’ 

#SoCS (Hot / Cold)

Lindaghill’s SoCS (For school terms and weather conditions)

Sig.ra Freddo: Ciao, classe!”
Classe: Ciao, Sig.ra Freddo!
Sig.ra Freddo: Welcome to week 2 of your 52 week course of Italian for beginners.
Today we shall be going over what we achieved in week 1: Saying Hello Informally – Ciao, classe!
Class: Ciao, Sig.ra Freddo.!
Sig.ra Freddo: And moving on this week to the informal goodbye.
After me: Ciao, classe!
Classe: Ciao, Sig.ra Freddo!
Sig.ra Freddo: And next week we shall move on to the Italian for ‘thank you’ which is…? Anybody…?
Giulio Caldo: ‘Grazie!’ Sig.ra Freddo.

Sig.ra Freddo: Sì, Giulio Caldo! È ‘grazie! Molto bene! 
(Giulio Caldo blushes)
Okay, until next week – Ciao, classe!
Classe: Ciao, Sig.ra Freddo.
Sig.ra Freddo: Ciao, Giulio Caldo!
Giulio Caldo blushed even more.

“Not another S-o-C thing, please!” she screamed.

“Not a Stream-of-Consciousness piece!” she screamed.
“No, it’s a finely-crafted, lovingly-skilled, highly-polished Haiku.” I replied, hoping to calm her down.
It didn’t work.
“A Haiku!!” 
Two exclamation marks meant something to me. I had better let her cool down for a moment.
“Don’t worry, my love;

It won’t be too much to bear,

You won’t feel a thing.”
She then visibly calmed down.

“Promise me that it won’t hurt.”
“You won’t even know when it’s over” I replied, truthfully.
“Thank you, Alberto;

You are truly a darling.”
She ‘was’ a sweetie.

#SoCS ‘Vol’ as a Prompt and managing 180 words in my 5 minute time allowance. 

Courtesy of Linda G Hill at lindaghill.com


(This post is part of SoCS)

The Italian for ‘To fly’

I try

But, I am grounded at the moment,

My weight obeying the laws of gravity

And, so, I will keep my attachment to the Earth

For all its worth

It gave me birth

And has a mighty fine girth

Which is a bit of Rhyming for you

As if you needed more.
Actually, I washed up

Upon the shore one day

– as you do –

– But the plates were not as clean as I’d like

– And so I cycled off upon my bike

– Which was strange as I haven’t

– Or hadn’t

– Got a bike

– And now I seem to be writing in bullet-points

– Which is the only time I use bullets. 

Ah! That seems to have stopped

As by being observed the item that was then under observation


I am sure that somebody should look into this ‘evolution’

Of things

Or maybe they have.

Is my time on this up yet?

No? Okay, I shall just tell you about an amazing thing that happened to me just the other day…

I was-*

Larkin or Auden?

image image

Larkin or Auden
Auden or Larkin
Larkin or Auden
Auden or Larkin
Adlestrop stop
Thomas or Auden
Auden or Thomas
Thomas or Auden
Auden or Thomas
Thomas the Tank Engine?
No, Edward Thomas.
Edward Thomas or Aldgate
Aldgate or Edward Thomas
Edward Thomas or Aldgate
Isn’t that upon the underground?
Circle Line or Northern
Jubilee or Piccadilly
District or Waterloo
Bakerloo or…


PS  I would here like to say that WP Admin  is ‘NOT’ a poet. Yet. G:)