23rd

I discarded a book

back to the library it will go

I’ve had enough of power being abused

and the witchfinder general had to go

 

I need a juicy murder

with meat upon its bones

and twisted lights and livers

with a clear case of comeuppance at the end

 

not a hint of romance in the plot

for romance is a sour and unnatural thing

used to trap the unwary

and those light of heart and wishful

 

in a nightmare

 

 

 

Copyright February 2020

 

 

 

 

 

13th January

my thoughts, they run

in and out of separate compartments

house reflected in mind

 

I find the library

books tottering in unread piles

forecast of an adventurous future

 

soon the rooms will divide

thoughts forced on an avalanche

of ever multiplying possibilities

 

if only I could grasp them

without ever leaving the house

or indeed, my mind

 

 

Copyright January 2020

January 11th + 12th

writing cheap poetry

at the end of a weekend

head stuck in words

 

juggling stories

voicing adding verisimilitude

to an old favourite

 

plus all the corpses dressed in tartan

 

the bears, horses and witches

with all the old gods of hearth

and forest and frost

in deepest darkest, Russia

 

and so I travelled

in a sweat box

waiting for the cool change

 

dismayed when only showers

passed by quickly

 

I was only an acolyte

to showers and whirling clouds

and quick winds which blew away my cobwebs

 

still leaving the earth thirsty

my head buzzing with stories

and a pen limp in my hand

 

 

 

Copyright January 2020