Tag Archives: Writing

The Writing is…

The writing is on the wall;

the door of the telephone box;

across the face of the dentally -challenged poster girl;

Above the A32 on the Sangupiddy Bridge;

on a random fridge, abandoned at a kerb side;

upon many pavements around the world;

and upon this page.

Keep writing;

for without writing…

PS Not that I am encouraging graffiti – I’m not – but, writing is an expression of thoughts and ideas – and those are good things.

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(Poem 24 – The Finishing Line Is In Sight) 25 Poems in 24 Hours


Poem 24 – 23:00 16-05-2017



All out of phrases

But, his game he still raises

To run for the tape

In hope of escape

Tiring, he stumbles;

For a breath he bravely fumbles

And lunges

And falls

And lays still.
The crowd is hushed

An ambulance rushed

And they gather around

This brave athlete

Supine upon the ground.
They offer support

But, of life there is nought

And his quill lays broken

Beside him, a token

Of what he promised to do.
“One last gasp! Was all that he needed;

But, the warning signs weren’t heeded.

And he positively speeded

To try for that tape.

And now he lays breathless

And wordless and speechless

With nary an arrow in his quiver to shoot.

“Was it all in this vein?”
“Could he have ended his reign?”
“He should have worked through the pain.”
And the near-corpse opened and eye.
His lip trembled a word

They listened, some heard,

The word, it was

‘Water.’ They brought him a glass.

They dribbled some twixt

The crack of his lips

And he drew in a breath

And time seemed not to pass…

But, it did.

And with a will that was found

He rose from the ground

And travelled the distance

From there to the tape.

The crowd cheered ‘Huzzah!’

And witnessed a star

As it crossed the Heavens that day.
And, now, looking back

We just smile at our lack

And his braveness in ending at last

So here’s to his glory

That I’ve told in this story

Raise a glass to that hero of the past.

Dream Sequences – Part 2 (a story in creation)

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NB please read Part 1 first at: 

Dream Sequences (a story in creation) http://wp.me/p1MjHq-1jS via

thank you

G:)

Part 2

Henry’s mind considered these things during the waking hours; to the detriment of his paying attention to his work and his driving skills – which were relatively called into question ‘twice’ on the way into the office; ‘many’ times ‘in’ his office; and ‘three’ times on the way back – once with almost disastrous consequences for an intrepid motorcyclist on a courier ‘Mission from G.O. Deliveries’ where he, the dispatch rider, had almost met his Almighty Employer.

Henry parked his dilapidated Ford Belligerent in an unusually empty space only a hundred and fifty yards from his flat, and ventured away from sanctuary and towards the quietude of the public library.

Henry was pleased to see it still there; he always assumed it would become a cut-price something-or-other overnight and his refuge from society’s babble would disappear like a traffic warden’s cologne after he’d photographed your car V.I.N. number not three seconds since you’d parked and popped into the newsagents for some Aspirin.

Henry found a table with seat near the Motoring section and dumped twelve back-issues of Exchange and Mart upon grubby surface.

It took him the effort of retracing eight issues before he found what he was looking for.

1926 Bentley, 3.0 Litre, British Racing Green, yada yada yada… up for auction at Rialto (Automobiles) Auction Rooms, Tuesday 7th, lot 458, estimate of £300K-£320K.

Henry whistled – and received a look of disapproval / approbation from a nearby librarian who was replacing ‘Humbly’s Diesel Engines of the 1950s’ or some-such tome.

‘Well, that detail was right.’ he thought. ‘A 1926 Bentley in reality looks just like the one in my dream – apart from the colour.’

Henry could have Googled this information in seconds; but, being of the sort of disposition that feels a book to be paper and words first – any other format (if you must) is a poor second.

However, finding A.R.P. might require a little of today’s modern-magic. He knew that needles in haystacks were a mouse-click away when the Interweb was put to use – Henry replaced the E&Ms correctly (in chronological order) and decided ‘now’ would be the time to seek out ‘Warden’ for any truths in ‘her’ story.

Henry had not had any dreams continuing his encounter with this enigma of a pretty, young lady who ‘they’ called ‘The mechanic’ or had that been a joke? He tried to visualise her face; arrange her features in proper order; remember her hair colour, style, length, but he was hopelessly hopeless at that sort of thing unless taking detailed notes at the time – which he hadn’t.

Not having had any more chances to gaze upon her smiling face, Henry had just taken to noting down the words spoken and the detail of the… the what? Hardly a date. She had been a knight in shining armour to his broken down damsel in distress – then she had galloped into the sunset without as much as a: ‘See you Tuesday; Rialto? Seven?’

Today was Tuesday. The 7th. Rialto! Where were the Rialto (Automobile) Auction Rooms?

—-

NB how do you think it’s going? No dreams in this bit; but, that is fine IMO. G:)

We Do What We Can

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We do what we can
Sometimes that relates to little
Or nothing
But we have something
When we do words.

Upon Writing and Artists… (No, it’s sillier than that title suggests – well, it’s me, what did you expect?)

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“Oh, I turned this sort of art into an art form – even discussed it with artists on a forum; asked them ‘wherefore ‘art,’ thou?’ They just stated their opinions upon onions as still life.
I preferred the written form; have done all my life; I can’t apply myself (or paint) to a canvas with a brush or a palette knife; no, drawing or sketching for me; I haven’t the ability, you see.
I ‘paint’ my words upon a blank page:
Poetry! All the rage… once.
It’s all I can do to doodle a canoe…
That looks like a gnu!
Well, what did you expect to see
From a wordsmith like me?”

As I…

Perhaps this one!

Perhaps this one!

I write as I walk
As I travel
As I move
As I think
As I mkae mistakes with spelling
As I correct them (usually)

It is what your left thumb is for.

(Did I mention that it’s raining)

So keeping one eye on the road ahead
And one eye on my screen
And one eye (my mind’s eye)
On my thoughts
I write these words

Just imagine me walking into a lamppost now!

Ouch!

Now wasn’t that worthwhile?

NB I actually didn’t walk into a lamppost – however, a passing vehicle transferred the contents of a puddle upon me! Nice! G:)

Please Move Along – Nothing To See Here!

move along!

move along!

These words do not exist
There is nothing here to see
Please move along
Forget about me
Nothing of any substance
To be read
In this place
And in the space
Of worthy words
Are these
Word-sitters
That I have hired to look
After the page where they may go…

Was that money well spent?

NB Rush Words is where I just write short, sharp stuff – not too deep, not too much editing – it just is. G:)