Portent (ii) Well, I was in the shop getting things for tea; when checking out I realised I didn't have the means to pay with me. I left the shopping there and, quick as I was able, walked back to the flat and there it was, my wallet on the table.
My contribution to the Prompt 25, Haiku and Decima Challenge posted by Ronovan. Cheers.
Haiku We notice how warm it becomes before the storm, yet you wait, poised, calm. The Storm - A Decima Across the sea there is a storm approaching. We see the rain fall distantly, will hit as a squall quite soon. The dark clouds start to form demonic shapes beyond the norm, beyond our usual reckoning. We see a light that's beckoning us into safe harbour until the storm blows out, the air is still, we drink to what the seasons bring.
Reservation It's Friday in the pub. There's a notice on the table, "Reserved: 6.30: Butters". And amid the hubbub I hear a comment thus, "Them? Fucking nutters!"
Happiness A morning without rain. A day I don't have to see somebody sacked. An evening without news. A picket line. The presence of people I love. An absence of things.
At the Railway Station, Upwey You would not recognise it now, surrounded as it is with neat homes, a net curtained wilderness winding to the Ridgeway. Yet as the wind wanes and Sunday men look up from washed cars, the air reveals notes played in a high register: unmistakably, a violin.
17 Licks Small fish swim down stream from deep pools where they were hatched spawned a million times This small dish of rain shines like a plate of bright sun caught in flagrante Coal fires flame inside the belly of an engine rising to full steam Rails glint in moonlight frost covers up the edges of a cold platform Where the blackbird sings slow dawn slithers up to see who has breakfast first Foxes scream at night fearing us and attracting friends for company When you sleep my love dark night coils around your form keeping safe your heart In a tree house topped by green leaved branches bending in the wind you sit Full of praise for fun the small comedian laughed as he died of stage fright Pigeons sit above the heads of travellers splat by white spots of shit Where contention reigns sanity is not intact conflict batters peace Shoes that do not fit pinch the toes the insteps swell the feet start aching Drinking in a pub though costly and frowned upon socialises you A morning of rain before the grass can be cut an afternoon's rest That black dress you wore we were drinking in that bar your legs smooth and brown The sun on hot sand burned onto your feet as you ran into the sea The garden you dig deeper than the depth of soil grows from inside you
When his hair was long
When his hair was long
and his waist was slim,
when the booze had not yet
crackled his skin;
when his eyes were clear,
ideals still intact
and trite cynicism
was not yet a fact,
she loved him.
Keeping it Right We've been on strike a few times now. We're not concerned about the reason but for the smell of the picket line. And when it's over, armbands stowed, work is brighter for a time, scabs slinking in as we look bosses in the eye. No one can quite hold our stare.
A Vegan Recants and Becomes a Vegetarian I wish I'd never Undertaken giving up Both eggs and bacon
Portent I was ready to go out, About to leave the flat, Had done the washing up, Had found my hat. I had put my lenses in And brushed my teeth (I'm sure), Put on my coat and opened The front door. I stepped out for the Tube With all day trippers gone, When I noticed that I had My slippers on.