"untasteful" poems
knitted on a dodgy bobble hat
or a favourite chunky jumper
from scandanavia, or yorkshire
untasteful but definitely practical..
smelly and friendly like a wet dog
pliable like warm playdoh...
patulioi oil
will always remind me of you...
'a hippy place in my heart...'
like a beachnut,
no, a beach hut
shelves littered with the flotsam of our throwaway society,
flip flop corner...
19:10
some random hermit crab making his escape from
the dripping bundle of just found fishing net
down through the crack in the floor...
into the sand
and back to the sea.
the moths and midges gravitate towards the fossils and rock shelf
because that's where the gaslamp gently hisses.
suncracked and faded
pieces of
70's buckets and spades flicker in the corner
between the scraps of rope
and the deflated inflatables
and the bottlecap damian hurst
next to sea purse corner,
biological tendrils contrasting the ever stoic rubber ducks
who escaped from the pacific gyre...
panning around, the smartphone registers,
the garish tatty windbreak
and the 90's ghettoblaster
which still has some juice left from those batteries
we bought at the gift shop...
last year...
for our imaginary beach hut....
in the outer hebrides...?
you take the camping gaz from the cupboard
and put the kettle on...
the beach is desert island white
the sea azure like a gaudy 70's postcard
the wind tugging relentless through our hair.
but the pub is warm and friendly
where grizzled fishermen philosophise
hardily. by the fire.
between warming shots of smokey single malt.
Jul 6, 2015
Jul 6, 2015 at 6:47 PM UTC
I revisit a scene once passed
A scene that went by too fast
I unconsciously reach out
And then
Fall into a ditch of murky black.
The first fall, a fall vestigial
The second fall, a fall wistful
Wistful, for I understand
That fall was untasteful
A fall that was not down
But sidewards
Not into a shadow but
A curtain painted black
A curtain that could always
Be drawn back
That is
If you wanted to push past
The strength that you lack.
A fall is a fall
But not always a fall;
In this universe
Direction is relative,
Symptoms and disease
Are not equivalent,
However
It is up to you
To draw back the curtain.
Mar 28, 2017
Mar 28, 2017 at 11:02 PM UTC
I used to soar high in the sky
The blue jays and ravens jealous of me
"Follow me," I bellowed into the air "follow me and you shall never see despair!"
Most came, some went, and to those who were not fond of my kind
How untasteful and foolish I looked to those dull eyes
But as time came, and time went
While I soared mighty high in a distracted haze they started to fly ahead
They played their playful games, tweeting and trilling as they went
But by the time I realized it, they were nothing but specs ahead
"Wait for me," I cried "don’t you remember that i'm your leader?"
"Sure you are," said a wise old dove that rocketed by and straight ahead
"You may have been able to help them with their troubles and keep them flying straight," he cooed to me
"But look at yourself and ask yourself 'what about me'?"
My tired wings and aching joints screaming as I worked to match his speed
"They've all surpassed you," he called as he cocked his head, "now no one minds you much for you're all spent"
He them dashed off with the other birds, singing as he went
And there I was all alone, how hopeless could I get?
A single bird, without a flock, how shameful can I be?
Well, I guess they'll do better off without me
I slow my wings and gently glide
There’s no rush now that i've been left behind
How was I so foolish, just as the dull eyes thought so
I thought I was a boulder, but I was merely a stepping stone
Apr 15, 2019
Apr 15, 2019 at 4:55 AM UTC
I saw the darkness long before I saw her.
It was reveling.
Some dark and untasteful yet lovely.
I never wanted anyone more in that sleepy second.
I became ephemeral.
Dec 29, 2017
Dec 29, 2017 at 2:20 AM UTC