Tag Archives: Life

I’m Not Bitter But…

March 2, 2016creative writing, poetry, Rant, Uncategorized, WordsBitter, Blah blah blah, Depression, Droning On, Facebook, Humour, Introverted, Life, Listening to people being and feeling great, Mental Health, Pretending to listen or care, Rant, Sarcasm, Thoughts, wordskmjmreed

While some of us are thinking about it, some are actually doing it, and those who are doing it are usually telling me all about it. By all accounts, there great at it too! And feeling greater about it, every… single… day!

Honestly, I’m over the moon for you, I truly am… warms my cockles… no end. But, In my thinking… and trust me I’ve had the time too (about what it is you’re great at doing), I have got to say, that I’ve decided I would be so much… much, better than you! Even if I wanted to do it, but I don’t even need to, (I’m actually laughing in my mind), I haven’t even thought to try it… unbelievable!

So, just in case you’re thinking about telling me all about it… again! Don’t bother because I won’t be listening from now on, I’ll just be… thinking about… me! Maybe not trying it, deciding not to do it… again!

Thanks for listening.

When the Sun Hits

March 1, 2016poems, poetry, WordsEyes, Humour, Images, Its just the sun rising, Life, Nostalgia, Opposites Attract, Perception, Perpetual Dawn, poetry, Short and sweet, Thoughts, wordskmjmreed

All thanks to a lens in your eyes,

when the sun outlines the horizon.

A sunset: no different to a sunrise,

just something to keep your eyes on.

Sky Dependency Unit

February 29, 2016creative writing, Flash Fiction, short stories, WordsAndroid, dark, Do you remember the 80's film called Daryl?, Fantasy, Flash Fiction, Freedom, Gloomy Outlook, Life, life and death, Restrictions Apply, Sci-Fi, Short Story, Sky, Throw Away Culture, Time, Workplacekmjmreed

Daryl hadn’t seen a full open sky for nine, whole, working years; un-retractable visors had been fixed above his eyes to protect them from the elements, to focus his attention on his work. His perfectly symmetrical, amber, tear-shaped eye-slots were unable to look up; limiting him to sporadic glimpses of a pixelated horizon.

It seemed that the sun set and rose perpetually, kaleidoscopic in their beauty but increasingly cruel to Daryl (something incomprehensible to human thought).

Over the recent days, gradually Daryl felt oddly distant, and a coldness had bred; invading his core, it was like he was viewing himself slipping away, into ever-more denser, industrialised fog. He felt his visors would soon be taken off him, only to be fixed upon another; his younger brother.

Seemingly, his hardship was nobody’s fault, just the way things were, part of growing up as a simulacrum; in a brutal, un-empathising, nonsensical world.

By his calculations, he would be free in hours, to take in as much sky as he had desperately yearned for — only that moment never arrived, because he broke down that very moment his visors were to be removed. He was left in numerical order amongst faulty prototypes, lying against his predecessor, in a stuffy, dark, windowless room; to desperatly decay without burial or ceremony, to be replaced by a newer and more advanced unit.

One of Daryl’s amber eye-slots still inexplicably flickers in the otherwise overwhelming blackness; momentarily revealing some evidence of limp limbs that filled the room poorly.

Visors were never to be fixed upon his brother…

Best Before Date

February 28, 2016poems, poetry, Uncategorised, WordsBad Joke, Consumerism, Contemporary, Expiry Date, Food and drink, Humour, Life, Observation, poetry, Rotting, Shopping Lists, Time, Use by dateskmjmreed

Loaf of bread, best before date 1-2-16

Banana, best before date 2-2-16

Skimmed milk, best before date 3-2-16

A bottle of wine…

Barn eggs, best before date 4-2-16

Whole Chicken, best before date 5-2-16

Sugar, best before date 6-2-16

Bottle of water, best before date 7-2-15!

Dates, best before date… correction

One bad joke, use by date…

This poem’s best by date…

Everything expired… rotting freely.

Unknown

February 21, 2016poems, poetry, Uncategorised, WordsBlah Blah, Fear, How should i know!, Humour, Life, poetry, Short, Six Sense, Something, The Unknown, Thoughtskmjmreed

Do you see what I hear?

Because I can hear you looking,

And I can feel your influence upon me.

Goddamn it! Unknown…

Make yourself known!

Field Ban For Rocking Horses

February 18, 2016poems, poetry, Uncategorised, WordsBattles, Contemporary, Contractors, Horses, Housing Development on Greenbelt Land, Humour, Land, Life, Nonsense, poetry, Predjudice, Shitting, Surreal, This Really is Quite Serious Actuallykmjmreed

Only real horses with real legs allowed!

The signs, at the field, ordered, as the wind howled.

The rockers rocked slowly; utterly devastated.

Being fed a downright lie; their field was so highly rated.

In their fury they rocked hard and rammed the signs down.

The real horses while shitting; fled, galloping to town.

The field was now theirs and everything was great!

Until the towns-folk arrived with rusty saws and spiteful hate.

A long, calamitous battle commenced in which nobody won.

Then the contractors arrived…

Those Silent Times

February 15, 2016poems, poetry, WordsLife, Loud Quiet Loud, Music, Noise, poetry, Silence, Sound, The Day to Day Stuff, Thoughts, Time, You Talk Too Muchkmjmreed

Sometimes —

In a world full of sirens and

clatter,

a perfectly timed silence,

that pause in the chatter,

speak louder

than those injected sounds of

violence.

Repetition on Repeat

February 11, 2016poems, poetry, WordsHumour, Life, Music, Nonsense, On and on and on, poetry, Repetition, Short, Thoughts, Timekmjmreed

I love repetition; I can really get into it.

I love repetition; I can rarely get out of it.

Repeat…

Days Are Numbered

February 8, 2016poems, poetry, WordsDays, Humour, Life, Nonsense, Numbers, poetry, Thoughtskmjmreed

My days are numbered

But I can’t count on it

Even though one is alone

Two’s company

Three’s the magic number

Four can be dirty

Five can be high!

Six can be nine

Seven is somehow lucky

Eight likes its own reflection

And for some nine means no

Tenfold!

Magic Stick

January 21, 2016Flash Fiction, Memories, short stories, Wordschildhood, Fantasy, Growing Up, Imagination, Introverted, Life, Magic, Nostalgia, Play, Thoughts, Woodskmjmreed

The stick, without a doubt, was unique, magical, no longer was it lost amongst the woodlands fallen, a delightfully crooked stick had tickled my fancy, held my attention without ceremony.

Waiting for me to notice it, call it to my hand; to grasp it, hold it aloft my busy dome, with childish influence.

The stick imprinted its distress and aged decay onto the palm of my soft, puffy hand; in the colours of the earth and leaf.

This staff, or a wand, some kind of weapon of my calling, or just an old warped walking stick, was to defend myself against the unknown, in shadow, as I sometimes danced staccato through woods and hedge way.

Unscathed, my unspectacular home door, now unlocked, into my actual security. I leave the stick outside, importantly, in the back garden, propping up the garage of course.

Now, somehow, my stick has gone, from too much time being forgotten, time stretched so thin, washed out, into an unnecessarily detailed painting of an adult realm, crumbled into invisibility, to earth, maybe it has travelled back to its place where I first owned it… maybe.

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I Eat Let.ers

Words and Art by Kevin Reed