Mr Misty Eyes

Rather grateful for what I don’t have…

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Dewey eyed and quite upset

The tears they run his cheeks quite wet

Hands over ears tries to forget

And block out all the noise

 

That’s all I am writing.  I do occasionally dabble in things that might be considered a little deeper but to be honest I don’t really have the experience or the emotional depth to pull it off.  Oh I can fake it but that’s not the same is it.

I can listen to a song and transform the sentiment into my own words or the emotions into something different but those feelings are not mine.  I can pick a topic and attempt to wax lyrical but I find myself rolling my eyes at myself. 

I haven’t had a particularly difficult life and feel very lucky and I often see so many wonderful emotive pieces and get quite envious but then I remember that there are real people and real emotions behind much of what I read and before I know it I am writing about a man from Ceylon who had a pendulous dong instead. 

I suppose I could write about the angst of not being able to find my remote control or perhaps write a sonnet about the challenges of having the most untidy garden on the street.

Ooh what about something in iambic pentameter about the challenges of being a white middle class male.

As great as it would be to be able to convey such emotional intensity I realise that I am quite lucky to not necessarily have those things to write about.  I realise that when the revolution I will likely be first against the wall.  But hey, finding a couple of words to rhyme with gonorrhoea is something right!

Fizzy Whizzy’s – March Prompts 1/31

In celebration at the end of a rather serious February

M’s writing prompts for March came with the following instructions:

“…set your timer for ten minutes and begin writing about one of the prompts listed below.  Don’t worry about spelling, punctuation, neatness, or anything like that; just write!”

You can see the prompts here.


 

The night was cold

And creatures old

Came creeping from the deep

And to your bed

Dreams in your head

They come your soul to keep

 

Long fingers bone

Into your home

The knob they slowly turn

And they possess

The things you bless

And for your keepsakes yearn

 

They feed on lust

Deceit, mistrust

On hearts so black and busy

They see your lies

Your burning thighs

Here come the fizzy wizzy

 

And as dawn breaks

Their prey they take

And never to return

Bed empty left

Of life bereft

Take heed and lesson learn

Cupid’s Conspiracy – In the Dark 20

In celebration at the end of a rather serious February

Another month of M’s writing prompts lies ahead. I did them all in December but was less successful in January. Let’s see how we do in February shall we.

You can see the prompts here.


So cupid woke in quite a mood

thought, “no bugger this lark!

I’m of a mind to be quite rude”

And out he did embark

In search of those who go unloved

Mischievous now his quest

With arrow true, pulled back, take aim

And shoot to lonely chest

With temper foul, his aim not skew

“Just watch this!” he did gloat

And stuck poor Brian, made him love

Old Barnaby the goat

And Barnaby he quite bewitched

His goat loins filled with lust

For Brian in his corduroys

Man/goat love now a must

And cupid laughed and watched them both

Their eyes and bodies burning

A love affair, a passion lit

A tale of cross breed yearning

And to his home Brian did take

Barnaby, who gladly went

And frantic loving they enjoyed

Until they both were spent

And Cupid clapped his hands with glee

his mission quite achieved

he made poor Brian love that goat

and goat seemed rather pleased

And to this day together still

their love endures quite strong

and they take turns at who’s on top

‘cos Brian can’t last long

Amorous affections – In the Dark 22

The devil made me do it.

Another month of M’s writing prompts lies ahead.  I did them all in December but was less successful in January.  Let’s see how we do in February shall we.

You can see the prompts here.


 

Gentle and tender his caress

pulse races, in his arms

Undying love he will confesses

He’ll never do her harm

 

She swears she’s his, her searching done

He knows that she’s the one

His roaming days are left behind

She’s his summer and his sun

 

She melts as lips, so soft and warm

Meet hers and deep she sighs

Her stomach flips, does somersaults

She’s lost inside his eyes

 

And under sun, both warm and bright

He knows she’ll be his bride

She bites her lip, and whispers sweet

“pop two fingers inside”

Hippie Harbour – In the Dark 16

Just a thing about a thing and some other things which ends badly…

Another month of M’s writing prompts lies ahead.  I did them all in December but was less successful in January.  Let’s see how we do in February shall we.

You can see the prompts here.


 

Theres a place made for folk of a kind

Who are carefree and pleasant you’ll find

But they don’t like to bath

And are quite fond of hash

And all substance to alter the mind

 

But…

 

All is not quite as it may appear

and possessed both of rage and of fear

their minds twisted and torn

by a pathogen born

in the weed and their lovely brewed beer

 

So…

 

Late at night when they ought to be humping

through their veins a dark need is fast pumping

and their hearts turned quite black

and they frenzied attack

driven wild on their neighbours they’re jumping

 

then…

 

and they rip and they tear quite asunder

and they feast on red flesh neath the thunder

and the lightning above

for they now only love

to devour, feast and bath in death’s wonder

 

now…

 

So the moral it seems is beware

if you travel there then just take care

Hippie harbour you’ll see

here the love isn’t free

there’s a cost you might pay, should you dare

 

Intense attraction – In the Dark 14

Today a haiku. True story.

Another month of M’s writing prompts lies ahead.  I did them all in December but was less successful in January.  Let’s see how we do in February shall we.

You can see the prompts here.


 

 

The flush of teen love

Holding hands for the first time

trouser explosion

Dedicated to Denial – In the Dark 15

So bad I bet you cannot even read it . You’ll see…

Another month of M’s writing prompts lies ahead.  I did them all in December but was less successful in January.  Let’s see how we do in February shall we.

You can see the prompts here.


 

He does not want what he wants to not want

though he cannot agree more or less

but he did not not know what it was that was said

Though sometimes he was wont to forget

 

Now he did not not never know or think not at all

And he’d never ever never do what was said

and he knew not what he did not ever not ask

that’s as much as he knew now she’s dead

Ravishing Peril – In the Dark 12

A bit like another I did to be honest…

Another month of M’s writing prompts lies ahead.  I did them all in December but was less successful in January.  Let’s see how we do in February shall we.

You can see the prompts here.


Ravenous appetite

Sweaty brow and trousers tight

No control, stalks the night

In search of victims new

 

Throbbing urge rancid needs

Red raw mouth darkness leads

On shimmer bright his hunger feeds

His bile and hate and spew

 

Neath the stars, cold inky black

He surrenders, can’t turn back

Hear flesh tear and feel bones crack

And he’s refreshed anew

 

Sumptuous and Sweet – In the Dark 11

Just words thrown together willy nilly

Another month of M’s writing prompts lies ahead.  I did them all in December but was less successful in January.  Let’s see how we do in February shall we.

You can see the prompts here.


Chocolates, sweet and silky on her lips

Reclined and pampered her every whim his wish

Tempted, dark and intense he feeds her desires

Lusting and hungry, deadly and delicious each and every dish

 

And time after time, her palette he teases

Skilled and cunning he caters, her appetites he knows

so with fake smiles and malice each mouthful he ensnares

Curves and comely come here hips slowly grow

 

Slowly time passes, senses dulled and sugar seeped she lies

Gorged and pink and perfectly sickly sweet

He draws the blinds, unsheathes cold steel

And dines, his long prepared and gorgeous bridal pickled treat

Bloodthirsty and Blazing- In the Dark 10

Just words thrown together willy nilly

Another month of M’s writing prompts lies ahead.  I did them all in December but was less successful in January.  Let’s see how we do in February shall we.  This was an odd piece for me, a kind of stream on consciousness.  I was sat on a really boring conference call about BIG DATA and just started typing words and this is what came out.  It is not really anything to me and has little meaning and is really just a series of ideas and images thrown together like a big bowl of wordy vomit.

You can see the prompts here.


She rages, face twisted screaming into the wind

Her words drowned out by the crashing shore

Soaked through with the spray of the ocean’s wrath

 

Fists clenched her heart black like the swirling skies above

She curses his name and dies once more at the memories

Eyes wide, nostrils flared bloody teeth flashed in defiance to the raging storm

 

As winds rip and tear, hands raised  to the heavens she bellows, gut spilling over

Her tears mixed with the dark waters swirling around her feet

Her mouth filled with vile truths and swallowed words long unspoken

 

And with her last utterance, winds drop and bow to her rage

Tides calm and retreat, subdued and obedient

She dies a final time and in golden robes rests in light