Stone

Waffly words and other peoples emotions

Were flesh as hard and cold as stone

Like grey church steps, worn smooth with time ,

Then surely we could love

And unconstrained here, fearless fall.

To give all without asking back

To take more than can be consumed

And wild and wanton, without care

Crash headlong to sweet simple bliss.

But flesh is weak, such tender hearts

Do feel the thorns of reddest rose

And lovers past steal joy and hope

There leaving cuts that tell such tales

So take this love, this life, this self

And gentle be its guardian

For scars I bare, and freely take

This is your heart to freely break

She

Waffly seasonal metaphorical blah blah blah

Those glimpses, stolen moments, few

Sweet solice sweeps dark clean away

And brave she stands, heart lost at sea

And on his beach, finds refuge, free.

There grows, and roots reach deep and down

And summer brings that golden crown

Face to the sun, soft wind through boughs

Gives shelter, shade and sweet respite

And guard does drop, at night his light

Does fade and wane and in her shadow

Bitter sits on traitors lips

As seasons change and love does fade

With light grown pale and tender touch

now lost, too much her beauty spread

and cold winds strip, leaves line her bed

where love once blossomed 

now lies dead.

 

 

Thorns

Dedicted to the couple having a row outside our hotel rooom because he lost the key and the kid needs a poo. Seriously, just break up now. You’re doomed.

When bloom has failed and frangrance passed

and thorns now all that does remain

that into soft flesh dig and draw

tears scarlet which run down pale cheeks.

These nightimes fall without sunset

and lifeless love lies tossed aside

and joy once wild and filled with hope

sits silent, strangled, without voice.

Yet onwards, duty, oath’s fulfilled

and aching smiles speak not of pain

through days they shuffle, numb to loss

and into night , not to emerge

 

 

Without Regret

Sometimes they’re just words…

Should I regret this life well lived

when night time comes and stars look down

then I should surely reassess

and count the costs, repent the loss

to find the joy that like gold veins

runs through this rock on which we built

and lived and loved and spent our days

for these are all were gifted free

until like sand they run away

through fingers old and worn and laced

across our chests and unto sleep

Along The Weathered Winding Trail – Room 101

A start of somethign perhaps…

In response to M’s writing prompts which you can find at the link below.  These are often just quick pieces, ideas or glimpses of what might be…Fun to do though.  I used to try do them in 101 owrds but meh, it’s close enough…See the prompts here


The lights of the night beyond splashed across the hotel bedroom walls and painted his body in neon pinks and blues as he walked towards the window. Breathing deep he slid open the heavy glass panes and the noise of the city spilled in with the cold winter air. Shivering he lit a cigarette and watched below, the smell of her cheap perfume still on his skin and that god awful noise she made ringing in his ears.

Fighting against the wind Dennis folded the map and forced it angrily in to the side pocket of his pack.

“So, where now?” Cath asked taking a drink from her canteen and motioning towards the valley below them.  “Down there?  Seems the best route I think.”

Dennis took a deep breath and counted to five in his head as he watched the water glisten on her lips.  She licked them noisily and it made his stomach lurch uncomfortably.   

“No, we need to head up.” He pointed westwards to where the sun was beginning to arc towards the snow covered peaks.  “The pass is another couple of hundred feet up and a few hours beyond that we should be not too far from the cabin.”

“A couple of hours?  Jesus Dennis how are we so far off track?  I thought you said you knew how to read a map” 

Dennis snatched the canteen and took a drink. 

“Careful” Cath snapped back, “that’s got to last us until we can find water again and you know I get thirsty.”

He stared at her as he felt the water slip down his throat and down through his chest like a knife slicing slowly into him.  His heart was racing and he wondered if anyone would believe him if he said she’d slipped and fell into a ravine.

“Sorry, you’re right” he replied.  “I don’t know where we went wrong.  We need to get moving though as we need to be there before dark.”  He knew exactly where they had gone wrong, they had gone wrong when Cath had insisted on taking charge because he always got these things wrong apparently. 

Dennis hauled his pack onto his back and pulled the straps tight.  There was snow in the air and the temperature was dropping.  Probably too cold for her to die from hyperthermia if caught out he thought, far too early in the season.   Pity.

“This way then” he said setting off along the narrow track along the cliff top.  To their left tall pines climbed into the sky and far below he could hear the babble of water. 

“Maybe you should go down and get some water before we set off” Cath suggested shaking the bottle. 

“Maybe you should get mauled by a bear in the night because your sleeping bag has been filled with bacon” Dennis thought to himself before insisting that there was a waterfall on the map not far away and that they could hold out until then. 

“I’m really thirsty “ Cath replied taking another drink.  “Are you okay waiting until we get there?”

“Yes dear of course” Dennis replied, his fists curled into a ball wondering whether there were wolves in the area.

They walked quietly for a while, the beauty of their surroundings lost on Dennis as he stared at the ground counting the steps as he went.  This was supposed to be a trip to help fix things but just a day in and things were resuming their usual patterns of accusation and recrimination. 

“Gorgeous isn’t it” he said looking up and motioning to the white tipped mountains in the distance.  “The brochures really don’t do it justice.”

Cath didn’t respond and when Dennis turned around he saw that she had her ear buds in and was humming along to whatever she had playing.  It was probably Bach.  She liked Bach.  Bach made him feel stupid because he simply could not appreciate it like his wife and her university friends did. 

“Fuckin Bitch” he said aloud. 

God that felt good. 

She looked up, removing one of the buds from here ear.  “Did you say something?” She asked.

“No Dear” Dennis responded.  “Not long to go now though and we should be at the waterfall.”

“Ok” Cath said and went back to her music.

“I want to screw your sister” Dennis muttered under his breath smiling.    

Cath removed her earbuds again.  “Are you sure you didn’t say something?  You do have a habit of mumbling as you know.”

“Bears” thought Dennis.  Bear would probably eat all of her, even her fat arse.

“Up there look” Dennis said “the waterfall.”

The last hundred metres seemed to take forever as the path grew steeper and underfoot large rocks made the going difficult.  By the time they reached the summit they were both breathing heavily. 

“God look at that, isn’t it amazing” Dennis said.  Before him a river cut through the rocks and plunged downwards to the valley below.

“Yeah its lovely” Cath said handing him the canteen.  “Fill that up will you I want to take a photo.”

Dennis watched as she walked up to the edge of the bank where the river fell over the cliff edge.  Unfortunately it wasn’t particularly fast flowing so there was little chance that she would be washed away.

“Hey Dennis, come and take a photo with me” Cath called out.   

Dennis walked over reluctantly, his usual smile plastered across his face. 

“One for the scrap book” He said standing next to Cath, the heavily wooded valley stretching far into the distance. 

“Indeed it will be” Cath said as quite suddenly she pushed Dennis hard in the back and he stumbled forward twisting slowly as he plunged over the cliff top.

Looking up he saw her smiling down at him as he fell towards his death.

“Fucking bitch…”

The fizzled enchantment and other stories of ruin – Room 101

A start of somethign perhaps…

In response to M’s writing prompts which you can find at the link below.  These are often just quick pieces, ideas or glimpses of what might be…Fun to do though.  I used to try do them in 101 owrds but meh, it’s close enough…See the prompts here


The lights of the night beyond splashed across the hotel bedroom walls and painted his body in neon pinks and blues as he walked towards the window. Breathing deep he slid open the heavy glass panes and the noise of the city spilled in with the cold winter air. Shivering he lit a cigarette and watched below, the smell of her cheap perfume still on his skin and that god awful noise she made ringing in his ears.

Snow began to fall slowly as she emerged below and stepped out onto the street, already he could sense the life beating inside her, feeding hungrily. He hated himself almost as much as he hated them, but their soft pink bodies made great hosts…

And onwards…

Something inspired by something else

How beautiful you are

Beneath the stars alive, so brightly burning

And all about, the darkness yearning

For a word, a touch, a glance

That sweet romance, the slightest chance

To feel that light and love and grace

And like the sun warm on my face

We are, always, here in this place

And lights we pray won’t dim

Like far too many, gone before

those promises they sweetly swore

But time moves on, they are no more

But that is not our fate…

Alas my beard is no more.

A thing about why I am currently beardless…

Note to self…next time you decide on a quick beard trim before bed remember to check the settings because if you don’t youre likely to shave too much off and end up with a goatee, and let’s be honest – unless you’re the devil, a jazz saxophonist or a dirty bastard of dubious morals who hangs around pet shops with ill intent then you should not be rocking a goatee.

In hope rather than expectation I asked Mrs Afterwards whether I might perhaps not have a goatee and suggested it might be okay though I knew full well that I did and it wouldn’t and she quite honestly pointed out that it looked ridiculous and I needed to go finish the job and could I stop disturbing her whist she watched the end of her whodunnit.

Actually, that isn’t the first beard related shenanningan in the last week thinking about it. I run a quiz at work each month and this month I did a “Who’s mouth and beard is this?” thingy. Turns out my team has a lot of beardo’s and before I knew it my phone was overflowing with man bush. I made sure I told the mrs as it struck me that should I get run over by a bus (something I was assured happened often when I was younger and I ought to therefore always have clean pants on), my phone might suggest that I had been dipping into the ‘bear’ pool on Grinder.

I did have a chuckle when I considered turning each of the mouth and beard photos 90 degrees but again, Mrs Afterwards reminded me that it was a work thing I was doing and that I was a horrible man and ought to be ashamed of myself. Just think about it…

Shes always right you know 😉

Now in the calm

Some rhymey stuff

These words, these thoughts, these in between

The lines, the sheets, the days and dreams

This place he finds her,madness screams

As nothing ever lasts.

Each syllable twists in the wind

Words whisked away, she cant rescind

Or even hide where they have sinned

And clings to hopes now dashed.

Forlorn until time heals and mends

To keep from harm the heart pretends

Until new starts warm cold dark ends

Their pain slips to the past.

These fragile things

One of these on a Monday.

If lost, the things I hold most dear,

these minutes, hours, months and years

that helter skelter through my mind

swim intertwined with all I am,

and without which I could not be.

Still I would cling to hope and faith

that were we ripped from life and love

that in that place of darkest loss

not knowing where or when or why

I would reach out and find you there

and once again sweet love would taste

and life renewed, new memories make

this destiny once more to live.

Alive

Just messing around with words and patterns and themes…

This dance, this tender back and forth

blown on the wind, true north, stars bright

seem gone at dawn, but night burn white and linger still.

When passions red paint rooms and beds and will, aflame

here in this embrace call your name and then

complete submit and without blame or guilt lose track

of time and lack no thing for all I have and need is you.

.

.

.

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.

.

.

.

.

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.

.

and cake.  I like cake too.  And biltong and great tv and my van and my family and the rain and comics and Judge Dredd and tattoos and boobs.   Oh and my drill.  It’s a cordless bosch and I enjoy it a lot.  Great battery life.

There no more

One of these…

Oh how we fell from where we soared, burned by the heights for which we reached

And helter skelter in this place , this now, this dark, this night we crashed

and broken, bloodied, bruised and fighting still the urges to be right always

and onwards we will drop beyond green pastures where we played.

Until, at last, in cold and dark

we recollect but now too late

this compromise, sweet give and take, was always that which gave us flight…

7 Deadly Sins

Another of these thingies

Oh how we fed so hungrily

our bellies fat with lofy lies

love whispered in the soft warm dark

and tongues drip empty promises

.

And time and tide do steal these things

that tender once now feel so spent.

I see you, cold and breathless still

Uncaring gladly watched you pale,

yet yearn, fools heart, for one last touch

while like bright stars dissolved at dawn

you fade yet hold tight to lost truths.

.

And there alone reside in tattered robes of rage

And home made crown of sharpest thorns,

so safe behind tall castle walls

untouched by all but darkest self.

The End

Even more wordy words

At days end, somewhere in the darkness,

Memories fade of endless firsts

and how I took your hand in mine

and promise poured so sickly sweet.

Cold breath, warm skin, sweet recollection

footsteps in the snow that slowly

brought you to my door

with liars dreams of ever more.

Those roads, we knew where they would lead

and need, such greed breed treachery

and love it twists, obsession births

and

Texas

More words…

In the darkness her tears flow through him,

Carving winding canyon’s in the barren hills of his existence

Bubbling and swirling, filling the arid wells of a hundred lonely lifetimes

Where he searched for her across all of time.

.

And then at last paths crossed at sunset

Stars align and fondly smile

Lie wrapped in arms still scarred and shaking,

pain of their making , yet oh so sweet.

.

And in her tempest feels her rage

and calms and comforts, calls her name

into the wind and soft returning

promises to never fail.

.

Deep and far and beyond memory

her rock through ages, dusk and dawn,

But river beds run slowly dry

when storms give way to golden days.

.

No blame. No fingers pointed harshly

Lived and loved but slowly lost

Bliss for a moment, Stratos soaring

Knowing, eyes wide, at such cost

Maggie Said

Some words…a few rhyme..

Words wise, oft thick with sickly praise

malaise spills at her dark demise

and in those final hours she beckons,

nightfall, crooked finger calls.

.

This halo tarnished, pious pride

held back, regret digs talons deep  

and wide and far she searches longing

for one more chance at ever more.

.

Again she watches as he turns

Each moment replayed thousand times

She burns and rages at the loss

This cross she bore, redeemers bride.

.

The tears, cold fears, though seldom solace

Bring yet anger sweep away

A heart entwined, yet always empty

At last peace finds in sunset’s rays.

.

She softens this last time as all

She was and is slow slips away

And summer days and grass that sways

Bid walk one last time until rest.

Ladybird

Cold I sit, consoling words still tossed upon the wind,
Your fires burn bright where embers once were piled….

Cold I sit, consoling words still tossed upon the wind,
Your fires burn bright where embers slowly died
reminders of our sighs, sweet lies and smiles forced wide
oh how I watch you shine.


There in the grass where once we lay
you watch clouds chased through skies as blue
as eyes that wept when days grew grey
and we forgot that love can’t always last.


And so, wings spread, wind carried far and wide
lost to these arms and calm caress
the things you hide, unsatisfied
I watch you fly away.

Footsteps

This verdant land where through the grass
names long forgot by men on wind
are whispered still and walk abroad
when mist shrouds veil and hill and dale.


This verdant land where through the grass
names long forgot by men on wind
are whispered still and walk abroad
when mist shrouds veil and hill and dale.
Their sacrifice, such love and loss
Still carries over valleys deep
and mountains, white capped, tell their tales,
forgotten take eternal sleep.
These millions, each beating heart,
Such hope and longing for the day
When old they look upon a life
Well lived and sons and daughters roar
And shine and blaze or silent sit
And contemplate what came before.
So take this banner, pen and book
And let not time this life forget
And in the hearts a story write
Tomorrow’s child to still remind .

The stuff of stars

These things from which were crudely hewn
And in this expanse shaped and formed
Give way to heart and hate and fires
that burn and fiercely do refine

 
These things from which were crudely hewn
And in this expanse shaped and formed
Give way to  heart and hate and fires
 that burn and fiercely do refine
 
This love that cuts and scars run deep
warm laughter hollow peaks then fades
And darkness melts at growing light
Which swells and soars, illuminating.
 
So come what will, we bend unbroken
Buffeted by winds of change
and edges soften, time moves onwards
rearranged and stained and aged.
 
Now take this thing I have become
With artists eye see shape and form
And lines, deep colours, shades and tones
this creation ever changing.

Grey

Would have done more but the cat keeps bothering me…

There in that moment, clocks stand still
and heartbeat thuds loud and wild
while tender words from sweetest lips
do spill and sweep my will away.

This evermore, this home and hearth
we take for granted, without thanks
many not counted nor recalled
such treasures held with scant regard

Through fingers finest sands escape
and time enslaves and laughing toys
with kisses fading into night
and into misty lands we stray