Poem: Dorset

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White horses met us on the shore.
We; wind whipped and wide eyed,
Braced to meet their thundering gait.
Not the romantic amble I’d hoped;
The jutting Jurassic coastline stole my gaze,
The violent air took your words away.
And although your hand clutched mine,
Your wonder was at the force of nature,
Which pushed us together
Like a majestic match-maker.

A First…

Blue butterflyDry umbrella, sniff of summer,
An invasion of butterflies.
The strangest feeling
Planning a meeting
By internet with emoticon smiles.

You were late, our first date.
So, i settle with a glass of wine.
Suppress exclamation,
Quell expectation,
But I text ‘I’m fine’.

I like the buzzing, gentle muzzy
Feel of the trendy gastro bar.
Clinging to my mobile,
I felt a little less solo
Then, looking up, there you are.

Lovely sparkle, like a tickle,
You’re a wait that’s worthwhile.
It’s the nicest feeling,
Knowing we’re meeting
By sunset, with genuine smiles.

The Only One

I’ve been following the news story on the shootings in Annecy, in the French Alps.

I picture the four year old who was found 8 hours later, cowering under the bodies of her parents and think, what sort of human being would do that?

Zeena has inspired me to start a short story…

My ears pricked to the sound of distant sirens. Yes, they were coming my way.

I closed my eyes, but could still feel the steady drip of liquid splattering against my left cheek. It ran uncomfortably down the back of my neck, and pooled under my shoulder. I tried to ignore the fact that it was still warm.

The sirens had cut through a thick and disorientating silence. Their oscillating wail stepping in to replace the heartbreaking cacophony that had stopped just a few moments before. It was a moment I wanted to claw back; the lull slipping away like the unchecked tears from my squeezed eyelids.

I couldn’t, block out the grating monotony of sound. Instead of trying to make myself small, encouraging the world to skip past me, my whole being betrayed me by exploding.  It was a while before I realised the new, inhuman scream was coming from my own mouth.

I hope to finish in the next few days or so.

Poem: I’m Crap at Resolutions

I’m a bit crap at resolutions, me
I try to find the fusion you see
Between easy, with something impressive
That will raise an eyebrow, or two

I try to allude to tenacity
But in the end my resolve to be
– good melts, like the ice in a baileys dream.
Or, disappears – like my running shoes…(ahem)

It’s something about Willpower..and me.
The two of us – we have no intimacy.
So I steer clear, avoid the exertion
Of beating myself up..or putting me, down.

So! It’s fruitless, and I think you’ll agree
That me, and a resolution will not see
Eye to eye; with an exception of one.
To laugh hard, and often…and mostly at me…

Poem: The Resolution

I’ll allow the tv to collect dust;
Fame, drama, lust and celebrity;
White noise, no poise just
Do not bring you nearer to me.

I’m putting a curb on my tongue;
Lies, gossip, fake intimacy
Dark fun – all leave hearts stung
and, does not bring you nearer to me.

I’ll stick to these resolutions.
New Year, trite promises see
Habits stricken, love proven;
A chance to bring you nearer to me.

I’m erecting a fence around my heart;
Gated, protected. A place to be
Me; with more of you. To start
Afresh, and bring you nearer to me.

Don’t Text When You’re Drunk

I blame laughter and Sauvignon Blanc;
Friday night, an inept DJ.
I wonder how you read my misspelled words.
Did they whisper or shout at 2am?
Mute in the light; grey and painful,
Each idiom deciphered, pored over.
Now expectancy fills the space in my chest,
Heavy and humid like my damp flat.
Present residue, just as unwelcome.
Your silence is unfamiliar; jarring as a 10cc engine.
Immersed in the pounding silence,
I realise…it matters. It saps the energy to shrug.
Another minute goes by, void of you.