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My Kodak Moments

DCF — Mon, 26 Apr 2010 14:25:53 +0000

a snapshot in words
the shutter closing slowly
catches in soft focus
what I wanted to see.

the resolution of my inner eye
exposing each feeling sympathetically
bending and focusing wordbeams
into the image on my paper

my shades of meaning
the essense of sentiment
the moment captured eloquently and faithfully
with colours rare that only I can see.

to be placed alongside the others in my album
each poem a treasured memory
a distillation of how I was
and a reminder of who I am.

Pete (26 Apr 10)

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Fall to the Floor

DCF — Wed, 21 Apr 2010 16:19:22 +0000

They each have a motive
An axe to grind.
Brothers with their backs up
Hate stacks up I find.
And the odds grow even
Worse in my eyes
When the grieving father
In the hearse grows deaf
to the cries of the kids
And their bids to halt
This badness.

They were innocent once.
Free from the madness
That would blight their minds.

Fall to the floor
They all fall to the floor.
One bullet brings another
And they fall to the floor.

A gun puts power
In the hands of the weak.
A self-styled hero
With an evil streak
Who is ready to right
the wrongs in his head.
But just like the others
He’ll wind up dead.

But the gun lives on
And round the cycle goes.
But when will it stop?
I think every mother knows.

Fall to the floor
They all fall to the floor.
One bullet brings another
And they fall to the floor.

Pete – 21 Apr 10

Bickering Children

DCF — Thu, 08 Apr 2010 13:08:25 +0000

Two slightly overweight, kid brothers are in their bedroom fighting over whose turn it is to play with the train-set. They still can’t believe they managed to convince Mum and Dad to give them it, given their track record lately. Only by promising to be good and do all the housework for the next four years did they cave in.

Like boys do, they shout and play rough, making up their own rules, contradicting each other and themselves all the time. The trains are a bit smashed up and scratched, but they still work. Just.

There is a little sister watching in the background. The boys never pay attention to her but that doesn’t stop her trying. She doesn’t like dolls any more and wants to play with her big brothers’ toys.

She’s been wheedling to Mum that she wants to play with the trains, but Mum thinks that she should stick to dolls: “Because that’s what little girls play with. Leave the trains to the boys.”

But she can see that her brothers keep getting angry with each other, and the devious child knows just what sneaky comments to say to wind them up. In the middle of their argument, the parents walk into the room, see the boys arguing with each other and sees the sister suddenly gushing tears. (Girls can do that.)

Dad shouts at the two boys firmly: “Stop your stupid bickering this minute or I’ll take your train set off you! Look – you’ve upset your sister now.” *pat*

Mum takes up at this point. “Why don’t you boys play with your little sister? That wasn’t a question – I’m TELLING you!”

The little girl smiles evilly at the brothers while her parents aren’t looking.

One brother shrugs at the other. “It’s no fun playing with girls.”

Not Quite Haiku

DCF — Sun, 14 Mar 2010 02:11:01 +0000

Seventeen monosyllabic grunts arranged into groups of 5-7-5,
a gripe about the weather,
and a short pause in which to swear and spit.
And thus a new form of northern poetry is born:

The Mancku.

Time with Friends

DCF — Sun, 07 Mar 2010 08:49:38 +0000

Sometimes I forget, but there’s nothing like fucking everything off and kicking back with your friends.

What a weekend!

Nigella eat your heart out!