I’m sinking. Once more. Drowning in the abyss. I see the Carefree. With their smiling faces, Their endless effer-fucking-vescent bonhomie. Why should they know joy? When I’m funereal. I want to take them Onto the darkened sea, Where they will sink too.
Did you?
What have you all done this past year While the world was shut up tight? Did you descend into fear and worry Or remain hopeful and bright? Did your world shrink down inside The four walls of your home? Did the fears you’d never see another Leave you bereft and all alone? Did you miss…
Ma and Pa’s Back Garden
In Ma and Pa’s back garden for a Few hours today has been quite brill, Warm rays upon our faces warding Away winter’s lingering chill. Hands clasped round mugs of cawfee, Nibbling individual apple pies, We all sit, together once again, Under pale blue Sunday skies. Outside, not in, Garden, not room, It beats the…
Regent Honeyeater
This morning, while lying in bed and half-listening to the news on the “Today” programme, a short article came on. It concerned the regent honeyeater, an Australian bird that is critically endangered and has lost its ability to sing its own song to attract a mate, hence its decreasing numbers and increasing vulnerability to becoming…
Rubbish Poem #22
The sun dips down Then climbs again as Another day goes by. And we’re left silently waiting Asking “Where?” and “When?” And “Why?” Did you know you’d Be so late this week When embarking on your ride? And we’re left silently pondering “Leave the bins out on the street? Or bring them back inside?”
Rubbish Poem #21
LOST! Reward for Information if you know, The whereabouts of Our bin men adrift Somewhere in the snow. For two whole days We’ve kept vigil Eyes casting north, west, South and east For any sign at all of those brave Hi-Viz and their Beast. If you chance upon them Lost and lonely somewhere, Please forgive…
Rubbish Poem #20
It’s Wednesday now Where are you, boys? You’re running a full day late. And I simply can’t help worrying Though I’m in no way irrate That you’ve not yet Been down our street In your Hi-Viz vests aglow You’re running behind, I think I’ll find, Because of all this snow.
Captain, oh our Captain.
Captain, oh our Captain. We knew you not before Yet twice you answered England’s call In peace and times of war. Proudly you stood To face the foes With each step forward, Heels to toes. Around his garden, a Yorkshireman, On a walking mission to raise a grand, Captured all our hearts, brought Hope sweeping…
(As yet untitled)
Ice winds freeze brave DC’s air On a chill January morning As the world watches and waits for Oaths of office to be sworn in, When a slight young woman, Wrapped tight in yellow and red, Steps on up to the mic About to thrill global millions With the words that she read. Those words,…
“Did My Love Life Shrink In The Wash?” by Kristen Bailey
I am delighted to be among the first stops on day one of the Bookouture book tour for the latest release by Kristen Bailey. Bookouture kindly granted me a digital copy of “Did My Love Life Shrink In The Wash?”, via Netgalley, in exchange for my honest review. And that is exactly what you will…
“The Khan” by Saima Mir
They advise to not judge a book by its cover. Wise words indeed. But, just sometimes, advice, however sage and well-intentioned, is best ignored. And this is one of those occasions. Besides, who exactly are they? I first saw “The Khan”, or rather, its cover, in a tweet and was, figuratively, stopped in my tracks….
Rubbish Poem #19
It’s been a little while since my last Rubbish Poem, over two months actually, so I thought it time for another. I know, and I agree with you when you exclaim, “It took you two months to write this?!” Two baseball’s and one bobble Crown the heads of the Hi-Vis trio, Warming these barons of…
The One
A little poem I began writing last night and finished this morning. It’s a little bleak but was inspired by one of Ilkley Literature Festival’s writing prompts, “Write A Poem About The Last Person On Earth”, and, with what we’re all currently experiencing, the poem came quite easy. I pen these final lines For who?…
A Rubbish Poem #18
A wet grey morn comes dawnin’, Dawn, dawnin’, On the scene. Those Hi-Viz boys come rollin’, Roll, rollin’ Down the street. Their steel-toes tappin’, Tap, tappin’ On black-soled booted feet. An’ they’re all yappin’, Yap, yappin’, With any folks they meet. Here She now comes a-roarin’, Roar, roarin’, Into view. Man, you best be praisin’,…
Gavin Dimmock. Writer. 