Haiku #542

The one-liner lose It’s impeccable said he It doesn’t fail me

Haiku #317

Bunkered down drowning still-life frames memories rise Monet’s calm waters

The Man Who Couldn’t Write.

The man with gold lead in his pencil couldn’t write! He tried a gold paperweight on his desk but still the words would not come. A gold-tin he purchased containing gems and jewels and scattered them did all around his desk in the hope of inspiring him with beauty. Nothing came. A name, a game, insane.

You Are Not Deficient

You are not deficient. You may not believe this fact. You may not know it. When you brush your teeth you might feel it. It works both ways. Good and bad, right and wrong. In the words of Weezer ‘Its automatic when you know/feel it’ Like a machine. like a living thing. Liminal not actual.

Dew Drop

My nose is cold. My heart warm. My fingers like fat sausages inside wet woolen gloves. And my feet in thin socks inside wet wellington boots that are two sizes too big for me. Memories. I never thought I’d be battling with the elements when writing. It’s not like I haven’t an imagination, though. And

The Boy Without Legs

There was once a boy without legs He went everywhere without them He spoke to everybody he met He pushed himself far on the track And in schoolwork he did not lack And he had lots of friends, he wasn’t missing those. But when he sees someone run for a ball Or walk with a loved