The stone stood, a relic marking where once the slaughter of the innocents took place. Who now cares for the truth- they were bait for enemy lured to defeat or the myth- a nation born out of struggle. Only songs remember why—the bodies, with the nation, long since dust.
Saturday, 29 August 2009
‘I don't get it.’
‘Its simple really, I have invested—’
‘Invested my bonus in a sports bike so I can scrap the car.’
‘You don’t have legs?’
‘Dad, it's too far.’
‘So I dig into my pockets, have bread taken out of my mouth and you save the planet?’
Thursday, 27 August 2009
We are going out whether you like it or not
think of the glamour when we are on the yacht.
I'm on the mobile.
I could wear the little black dress with gold edges.
To think, they live in houses with concierges.
Shush, on the mobile.
Try to wear your pinstripe suit, as for our first kiss,
and look with love rather than taking the piss.
Finished the mobile...
...I hear he replaced you with jail bait—yes, I know.
So do yachts matter more…should I stay or go?
I'll ring the mobile.
Wednesday, 26 August 2009
The scream was short but it was the signal for the crowd to break up, some at least looking shamefaced. Not always, the ones you expected, Silas would say years later on the rare occasions he let the booze win. His granddaughters' angry why let him cry the past clean.
Tuesday, 25 August 2009
'I was born here and I die here,’ Evelyn said calmly.
'Listen to grandma here, you'd think she was paying the bills,' the bailiff said.
'I am not your Grandmother and if you touch me, they touch you.’
Looking out of the window, Karl saw the street crowded and ready.
Monday, 24 August 2009
Outside each tree in the garden was doing a disdainful tango as the rain sighed against the rattling window. It was a jumper day.
‘My kind of summer,' Rob said, as his wife banged the breakfast things away.'
Only because you are too tight to go abroad,' Mandy shouted back.
Sunday, 23 August 2009
'Yor stuck with yor kin but you choose yor friends,' she said in a take-me-as-you-find-me voice. It wasn’t an invite. Maggie, standing in her thrown together boot-sale clothes, sidled a look at me. Sighing, she brushed her grey scraggy hair back and said, ' But I reckon you'll do.'
Saturday, 22 August 2009
Phew, from the cover Harold saw that was true but he had promised his wife no more secrets. Which apart from his special stash he kept to. So could he risk his marriage for the 1946 Archie Comics makeover edition?
Friday, 21 August 2009
His mother just sat, holding her gun. Tears long gone, now it was a battle of wills.
She had lured him to the old house where nothing but the buzzards would be disturbed.
‘You leave here either clean, or dead. It's your choice.’
Thursday, 20 August 2009
‘Please it's only a rabbit,’ Dali said, resigned to her irrational reaction.
‘Oh no, no.’
He saw Lucy’s body go rigid, her neck reddening, and eyes flickering in fear.
What the hell could a rabbit do, he thought.
Her first rapes were always to the sounds of Run Rabbit Run.
Wednesday, 19 August 2009
Tuesday, 18 August 2009
At times of stress, you know
before you want to kill,
but after you slam doors
repeat to yourself this
evocation: They may
vacillate but you
insist on time worn rules.
As you calm, look again
to the stupid squiggles
out- a clear sense rotted.
Now your head thumps again,
someone has to say no!
Sadly, you wail in vain
unheard and ignored as
common gutter grammar
kills our Bard's mother tongue.
Sunday, 16 August 2009
by the thrown tree—
his moan now woe.
Blue skies his low.
Best was snow or
rain—though love missed.
On death, she kissed.
He waited as he always waited—outside by the fallen tree.
.....The worse days were sunny and blue when the children danced to school. But on
rainy days when the children trudged by he could always imagine her wanting to
.....Not even her death stopped him waiting.
The wedding dress was a satin back taffeta
a-line gown with halter-top but the mirror was screaming not good with those shoulders. In any case, the side-draped
waistline with its delicate crystal beading was too tight but what did you expect.
.....Shame his girl friend insisted he wore a morning-suit.
Saturday, 15 August 2009
It was seeing his neighbour die needlessly
that started his plea, 'Call me crazy but
when was it right to let us suffer in the midst
.....They did and beat him out of town. But
some listened, and then more, so he died
leaving others able to live.
‘It’s a mystery…’
.....Harry let the minister’s voice
drift, as he looked round struggling the hate
out of his eyes.
.....It wern’t a mystery why she laid there.
The town had killed her with pointing fingers
and sly looks. Reaching inside his jacket, he
pulled and took everybody’s last breath.
Monday, 10 August 2009
‘Stop that. I am sorry he can be a right little
monster sometimes,’ Helen said, in an
apologetic tone. Why had she agreed to look
after him, she thought trying to grab
.....‘Now sit down, the nice lady is talking.’
.....‘Sorry.’ The job interview was not going well
Saturday, 8 August 2009
.....Once the smell of a father fresh from the
boats that held and danced him into the
sea, laughing at the waves and fretting
.....Now as the glass bottom light darkens,
he stops struggling as the voices of his past call.
The water tippled into the bath; soon the
comfort of warm water would distract her.
.....Listening, he turned the laptop on, found
tissues and started surfing for the forbidden
—steaks cooking, bacon sizzling in easy
diners. Wiping his drooling mouth, he knew
that her nut cutlets were no longer enough.
Sunday, 2 August 2009
The bed knocking woke him up.Ted glanced at the clock. 'Bloody Hell,' and went to bang the wall.
'Ooh no, I'll not be able to show my face,' she said. 'Wrap a pillow over you.'
'No use. They aren't stirring. You and your effing spice it up with bondage.'
'Feel my forehead and chest', Steve said
.....You are just trying to get out of Anna's
fiftieth, Nigela said.
.....Reaching over she was shocked to feel
how hot they were.
.....'I supposed I could go with Rosemary.'
.....Steve, moving the hot-water bottle away before she saw it, nodded weakly.
They staggered on through the moonlight, a
grey line stretching from hill to hill—silent
except for the groans of the wounded and
the flutter of ragged flags. The swaggered
farewells of spring long replaced with anger.
.....At his execution, the King still shouted,
‘Victory or Death.’
....The mob agreed.
Saturday, 1 August 2009
You are a yellow-belly but you sing.
You are a yellow-belly but want love.
You are a yellow-belly and say now.
You stand and say why wait; let us stop now!
Others only kill but you want to sing.
They come to look on you with hate, not love
The stabs start in the night but you give love.
Angry voices squash your pleas for peace now.
They crush your flesh but our spirit will sing
I’m a yellow-belly and sing love now