Words and the world passing by; how it sings to me; how I clamour back.
Following the prompt for Day 7 from the NaPoWriMo site, sort of, as this poem is inspired by this news headline. Where the rain is made of iron And the sun is made of clay See the flowers made of music Fill the lava… Continue Reading “NaPoWriMo Day 7: Where the Rain is Made of Iron”
Is it a bag of beans? Who decided that Tiny polystyrene beads Were actually beans? Are they named for dried beans? Fresh beans? Baked beans? I don’t understand. And why is it a bag? It’s a seat. A pouffe. A tuffet, perhaps. A stool,… Continue Reading “NaPoWriMo Day 17: Bean Bags?”
We didn’t know which bin it was Not green nor brown nor black The neighbours had not put theirs out We were totally off track We waited til the bin men came Then watched which one they dragged We raced the truck and gave… Continue Reading “The Day We Forgot What Colour Bin To Put Out”
Wow. It’s hot. Holiday hot. Sapphire sky hot. BBQ out now hot. Endless washing line fill hot. Tarmac tacky almost wet hot Haze even on the gem green grass hot. Jeans unto shorts unto bikini hot. Sleep elusive and duvet gone crazy hot. Melted… Continue Reading “Hot”
25 angels Dance on my head Is it a pin head Bed head Logger head At So 25 angels Dance in my soul It’s a black hole Port hole Window where I’m sat 25 angels Dance with my feet Got two left feet 12… Continue Reading “Angels”