Not Sorry!

I absolutely loved writing tonight’s poem, I do like a rant and felt thoroughly cleansed after this one. In response to Napowrimo Day 19, write a “not sorry” poem – here it is.

Not Sorry

 

Social distancing from an introspective perspective,

could be considered social rebalancing.

I now appreciate my immediate family more than ever,

when I’m sick they care for me

when I’m hungry they feed me.

when I’m low their hugs lift me.

This is my inner circle, my sanctuary.

So, Mr Fluff from Zero Town, from this day forward

I won’t be putting your needs above mine and my family’s.

Your emails to request X by deadline Y will be deleted.

You are an outsider from the outer circle and let’s be honest

whenever I have satisfied your requests at the expense of time

with my family, you have been grateful for nanoseconds

forgotten it soon after and only remembered me again when

you want something more.

I’m not sorry.

To those in my mid-circle; I love you

But I won’t be making myself ill running around to please both you

and my family. If you love me you’ll understand and not be peeved

if I don’t reply to your posts, comments, invitations, messages, emails

immediately or within your accepted and expected time scale.

I love you but I’m not sorry.

To society at large; if my make-up is not perfect, my “roots” visible

My weight off your chart, my diet lacking,

If I’m not quick enough, not enough – so what?

You are not in any circle of mine, just landscape, background noise.

I’m not sorry.

 

 

Art by Agnes Cecile

Don’t Make Me Go Back

Almost back on track with Napowrimo, Day 17 – a sequence poem

 

 

Don’t Make Me Go Back

 

I

 

A smooth soft wrist, warm to the touch

with a healthy pulse, smiles back at me

it hasn’t seen a watch in 3 weeks.

 

II

 

I’m late!

For what?

Nothing

 

III

 

A 6am alarm triggers rocketing blood pressure

Lobotomised drivers with hollowed faces and deadened eyes

commute on the 9-5 M60

a cacophony of sirens and horns their weird theme tune.

A 6pm return of my fractured shadow

 

Aldi Sunset

Still catching up on Napowrimo, this is the response to Day 14  “celebrate a place, thing or idea” This poem evolved midway into a poetic prose…or possibly drifted into a stream of consciousness.

 

Aldi Sunset  – April 2020

 

An acre of tarmac; white lines map territorial rights

measured in inches of space filled

with the low growl of engines.

 

Security guards count single adult entries held 2 metres apart

in a snaking queue, but there’s no hurry

only patience and impatience marks time.

 

Waiting in the car, my daughter takes care of the shopping

It’s a new boundary for her to tear down.

We both win.

 

From this new vantage point, the clatter of metal

slamming together in the trolley park

seems musical.

 

Early evening light dapples through popular trees

edging the car park; a precious necklace of beauty

never previously noticed

 

As families load car boots with groceries, domestic chatter

is as serene as birdsong in this new oasis of peace

in the surburban landscape.

 

Cheesy 70s hits blare from an open car window

the driver’s paunch strains buttons on his acidic striped shirt.

He sings along, parking, reversing, correcting, reversing

aligning, reversing in time with the beat.

 

Sunglasses perch on bleached blonde hair, a dainty lady struggles

to manoeuvre an overladen trolley towards her Audi convertible.

She pauses to consider how her bulk bought goods will fit

into the postage stamp boot. After 3 bags fill the space, she loads the interior

propping up wine with frozen peas and cartons of lemon sorbet.

 

Her sultry daughter remains seated throughout, scowling at a world

which doesn’t sufficiently entertain, glowering at the domestic inconvenience,

wondering why no-one has responded to her latest Instagram selfie.

 

You Are

I’m playing catch up on Napowrimo, so here is my response to Day 13 theme “To You”. This is a re-edited version of a poem I wrote years ago. I remember performing it at an open mic night and then it was lost under piles of scribbled notes and abandoned verses. Luckily, it came back to me today when I cleared out a cupboard! I also found two Christmas presents for my children which I’d forgotten I’d hidden there, so we are winners all round today 🙂

You Are

 

You are the sunlit sparkle on a dew dripped rose.

You are the silver shimmer of winter’s sunrise.

You are the soft bamboo chime as the chill wind blows.

You’re the wistful blush of evening’s snow-filled sky.

 

You are the fragile snowdrop who defies the frost.

courageously bursting into the purest bloom.

You are the 5 am bed that after sleepless night

suddenly becomes the deepest, softest cocoon.

 

You are the sense when I struggle to understand.

You are the floppy hat of bohemian style.

You are the light that shines on my moon eclipsed days.

You are the humour that always brings back my smile.

 

You are the comforting hug of my old blue jeans.

You are the incense that calms my turbulent mind.

You are the cool grass between my naked toes.

You’re the treasure it took a lifetime to find.

 

The Lie

Napowrimo Day 8 – Write of a lie

 

The Lie

 

An empty Bell’s Whiskey bottle wedged behind the stacked cereal bowls.

Drained Smirnoff Vodka bottles tinkle together behind the sack of dog food.

Crushed White Lightening Cider bottles lean on shelves in the garden shed.

Merlot Wine bottles are disguised amongst the bleach and disinfectant.

 

But you didn’t put them there.

 

Could it have been me and I have amnesia?

Perhaps our 6 year old can reach tall shelves and unlock rusty padlocks?

No. It must be the dog: he’s sleeping it off in his basket.

Was it a twisted tooth fairy who leaves his empties around our home?

 

Which is it to be if it wasn’t you?

By Gum!

Day 3 of Napowrimo – use rhyming words

 

My resolve I now need to harden
Got the look from my prison warden
Was summoned to tackle the garden
The weeds she sees cannot be pardoned

Before this beautiful day closes
She kindly, thoughtfully proposes
I should prune and cut back the roses
Their fragrance will once more thrill noses
So I’ll summon my strength and amass
The inner strength to mow the long grass
Perhaps I may scrape by on a pass
Though the neighbours compete and outclass
Kneeling weary on two creaky knees
Carpe Diem! This day I will seize
Though I huff and I puff and I wheeze
I’m determined to win by degrees
Such joy now the long winter is done
Mopping my brow I turn to the sun
Need a massage and bath but By Gum!
I came, conquered, I weeded, I won!

Dust

A shirt is shaken, sprawled over a board.

Her smile is fixed, eyes glazed

hours pass by as the iron runs.

Life evaporates with the steam.

The corpse is well turned out,

the headstone reads “she kept a tidy house”.

 

Dust piles upon dust

falling layer upon layer

dancing on sunbeams in shafts of light

piercing silent rooms.

Bed clothes lie ruffled.

breakfast pots sit in the sink.

 

No-one cares they run through fields

climb over styles

gather mud on their boots

eat picnics on blankets

whilst the tap drips into a bowl

waiting, waiting, waiting.

 

Wind-blown hair, sun burnt skin,

smiles light up the meadow,

birds chatter along with laughter

on the breeze, the dandelion clock

sends parachutes to mark the hours

of this endless day.

fun in fields

Together

Together

 

The chores were the same but it was different.

The bed linen was now king size.

The mugs were chosen together

Large handles to accommodate his big hands

the colours to please her.

 

The supermarket shop was initially uncomfortable

and took twice as long.

What do we like to eat? Do we like the same things?

Which toothpaste? Which Milk?

 

Hanging his laundry on the washing line

seemed intensely personal

but he smiled at her as she did so

and she held his gaze.

hand holding together

Day three of Napowrimo and the challenge was to write something that involves a story or action that unfolds over an appreciable length of time. I’ve interpreted the prompt to include a glimpse into lives which have changed, time being the catalyst. I leave the reader to imagine what story could have unfolded to lead up to this point in their lives.

For those wanting to join in the Napowrimo challenge here is the link to today’s prompt. Napowrimo Day 3

 

2.32AM

 

232bathroom

 

2.32 !!!

Awake!! Need the loo!!!

Blast that last cup of tea!

 

 

232tea

 

 

Creep back to bedroom.

Feel my way through the gloom.

Slide into bed silently.

 

232sleep

 

 

Turn hot pillow over;

cools my neck and my shoulder.

Slip into sleep happily.

Lost socks

A later post than usual; today my son turned 5 years old, so birthday cake, balloons and presents stopped Napowrimo play. Normal service will resume soon. 

It’s Day 13 and the challenging prompt for today was:

The ghazal. The form was originally developed in Arabic and Persian poetry, but has become increasingly used in English, after being popularized by poets including Agha Shahid Ali. A ghazal is formed of couplets, each of which is its own complete statement. Both lined of the first couplet end with the same phrase or end-word, and that end-word is also repeated at the end of each couplet. If you’re really feeling inspired, you can also attempt to incorporate internal rhymes and a reference to your own name in the final couplet.

My response:

Have you seen my socks?

blog6

“Have you seen my socks?

They are not here. I need some clean socks”

“What kind of socks are you looking for;

Sports socks, work socks, “going out” socks?”

blog21

“The black ones!”

“Is that black sports socks, black work socks or black “going out” socks?”

“Damn it woman, I’m going to be late!

The Black work socks! I need the black work socks!”

blog12

“And did you put those lost black work socks in the wash?

Or are they the dirty, black, thrown-on-the-bathroom-floor socks?”

“I put them in the wash basket!

The ones on the bathroom floor are sports socks.”

blog7

“Here they are, in front of your nose;

the lost black work socks that Nic had to wash and put-in-your-drawer socks.”