The phone sings into my life from
Its still place in the corner,
Fulfilling the role of messenger
Holding onto elation or devastation,
Chit chat or sales voice of persuasion.
A tracking device linking into our whereabouts,
Held on our person, in car or walking mode,
Connecting us with another soul.
At one time these sentences would wait,
Storing up conversation and expectancy,
Now, the turn off mode rarely used,
Its surface new alongside never ending
Chit chat from keys depressed at expert
Speed and dialogue, via shortcuts
To the english language,
Discouraging correct terminology, a dislike
To some, taught in the old school.
Shall we exercise our way back from here
I doubt we can...we never will

This never ending chit chat mode.

new slippers built up with sponge
until body weight bears down
flattening them out.  

toes pull at the lining
scraping it away from its anchor
crumpling underfoot.

cotton gradually wearing
thin under heal until bald.

they really don’t last long
but, what can you expect ….

for £3.

the cross trainer crossed me out

                                                      in favour of the

                                                               ­                   runner that I ran out on

(5/7/5/ syll count)
24th July 2012

Dropped a spanner on my toe

                Ouch...my toenail said

I need a joint to fix it

(5/7/5 syll count)
24th July 2012

Your words are there, but.....
Somehow vacant

Truly melancholy is my moment
With faces like whispers, penetrating my mind

Many conversations recalled
Spilling out, many without recourse
Whose silence demands my attention

There is no choice with some
Their words already spoken, buried and gone

Hurt me with the silence ….
When there should be a song sung

To know your choice turns and misses
The waiting becomes a reality
To throw into the mix, pulling out a grain of humility

You don’t even know, perhaps this makes it worse
You burst the bubble
Chased the blossom from the trees

She lay wet and cold
Pond **** staining her face
Skin grey as the sky
That rubs away at the truth
That pains the eye to look
Reinforcing the scowl on her life


Lies cannot steal the scene
The suddenness shows, as backs
Turn and eyes meet the ground


It will be someone’s day of disbelief
Of nails dragging at flesh
And no tomorrow of any worth


A skirt of torn fibre
A heel wrenched, displaced
Unnatural posture


Sorrow is bound to penetrate
Tugging and  
Vying for space

Cry out, await the echo
              
     Of an unknown soul

Turn around and know their heart

(5/7/5 Syll count)
20th July 2012