Day 4

Panache.  A short poem

Some people have it in spades.
I don't.

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Hit and Miss

So this is the  first chapter of a short story or maybe something longer that I started a while back and I'm considering dusting off and working on a little.  I have a great fear of showing people my writing so I figure putting on here is a good way to get over that.  I really like these characters but it is hard to make them empathetic when you are in both heads - I like the how the perspective changes and who hasn't been in a situation where they have read it completely wrong? Hit and Miss My drink was out of my hand and over his top before I hit the pavement.   The protective properties of the polystyrene lid did not meet expectations, which made me question; how does stuff like that get through quality control?   I dared a glance up.   It was a very dark liquid and an impressively white t-shirt.   Tight white t-shirt.   I was mid apology when a stabbing pain ripped through my chest causing my, “God, I’m so so...
Read more

Dream big, Be grateful, Give love, Laugh lots

Today I am being and doing all the things in the title a little more than I did yesterday.    These are not ground breaking statements, in fact they are what I jotted down from a Wordle poster I was spending more time reading than I should have done during a tedious meeting the other day.  But they stuck with me, and as I usually remember very little, being cursed with a memory like that kitchen implement with very small holes in it, I feel that this imbues them with a certain 'specialness', a truthfulness if you will. Now I honestly believe that I have a very good life, I am happy and I want for nothing that is necessary to keep body and soul together.  Okay, so I don't have that pony I've wanted since I was seven and neither am I Mrs Jake Gyllanhall, but those gripes aside, I am very lucky. Of course, it is human nature to not recognise this (by choice or happenstance) most of the time.  There are so many things to divert the mind after all... from the big...
Read more

Poetry day 21

Museum Take a walk around the museum, why don’t you? Look over there, that’s your first holiday in Spain, Remember the photograph? Short bobbed hair, shorter skirt - but it was the sixties, There’s a drink in your hand, And you’re sat on a boy’s lap whose name you couldn’t recall, You are young and happy. Look this way, it’s snowing in the back garden, Your daughter is there in a white fluffy coat, She looks like a tiny snowball, You are a mother. And just over here, You’re in Thailand, And there, at a party sat looking bored at a table, You came home with an orchid trapped in a plastic case, On a beach wrapped in a towel with two freezing children, Playing with the kittens; dragging a piece of string for them, Sat in the garden with a cup of tea and a biscuit, You are you.
Read more