MOUSE MADRIGAL 1 - FOUND POMES

MOUSE MADRIGAL 2 - INSOMNIA FACTORY

MOUSE MADRIGAL 3 - SCHOOLS OUT FOREVER

MOUSE MADRIGAL 4 - BROADCAST MEAT

GUEST POST - PICS & A POEM: CHILDS PLAY BY FELIX RATCLIFF

Fire-stormed landscape.
Transport: public.
Self-lit blue sky, effaced.

Good or bad,
it's all attention, reaction,
most definitely a result,
tearing down the pretence
that hard work
will see you right,
easy as piss,
firelighters and slingshots,
child's play,
we're all over the papers
we sign, a name.

Our signature in black.

Go fade yourself.

© Felix Ratcliff 2009/2018

you can find Felix here -

ebcopywriting

KITCHEN REFLECTIONS

MORE SKIES

BAD ORIGAMI CHRONICLES 1 - ANYONES GUESS

i am writing it

while i am writing it

after that

what ive done ?

anyones guess

bird song

&

wing beats

sound like

( i write )

sound like organic electronica

allowed of course

in my airspace

outdoors

BAD ORIGAMI CHRONICLES 2 - DUH

if you dont get up

without a hint of mercy

how can you go back to bed

after breakfast

and listen

u n i n v o l v e d 

to the hunt 

of the traffic

?

duh

BAD ORIGAMI CHRONICLES 3 - NORMAL PERSON

sometimes

i talk

like a 

Normal Person

bout drills

ground work

plumbing

( cargo shorts in the diy store

  &

  forcing fun out the english holiday sun )

never

ever

long

tho

till

the ancient astronauts

and

the heavenly policeman

the

arsebras and monkey butlers

wash up

brainwise

say hi ford

you still

smell your

own snot ?

BAD ORIGAMI CHRONICLES 4 - THE TOO-MUCHNESS

scarred

blood tube stack

rising

out

a

white collar shirt

corner office   pot plant

face port coffee wet

is just one example

a tiny ingredient 

of . . .

oh

the

c r u s h i n g  too-muchness

of

it

ALL

A TWOFER GUEST POST BY SOME 'BUX' WRITER

Belly Down

 

I lay belly down

on the front room carpet

with him spanning my back

our blue kimono kisses

sending nylon sparks flying

heating up the room

more efficiently

than the bars of the electric fire

as we fooled around

in housing association denial

from pinterest

Mortar Attack

 

On paper

it shouldn't have been feasible

he would be punching above his weight

I'd be banging my head against a brick wall

and despite that

we worked for a spell

until the cracks began to show

then mortar split from brick

from the force of our blows

from probuildermag.co.uk

you can visit Some Writer here -somewriter@addictiveburn

RAIN IN COLOUR

GUEST POST - NOTHING NEARLY SOMETHING BY SALEM THE CAT

"nothing,

nothing,

SOMETHING ?

something . . ?

no . . . nothing."

A TWOFER GUEST POST BY TOM SINCLAIR

Elm Park

My neighbour plays music
But I'm still at peace
Sitting on my sofa
Waiting for the medicine to show up
The coloured pills
That looked so fake
I was accused of being a police informant
There's plenty of grass in my back garden
It's thigh high in places
People think I live alone
But I'm rarely lonely
There are spiders in cobwebs
And butterflies outside
Foxes in the street
And one night I met a moth greeting me
At my front door
I don't like to talk about the mice
I miss them too much

You can spot my house
There's a tree out front
Ivy climbing up the wall
And a little brown Mercedes-Benz
I've only noticed in absence
Once in a year
Come see me some time
Bring some milk
And I'll make you brews

On the walk to the station
I notice one elderly lady helping another
They dress differently
Their skin is different
But their goal is the same
I overhear their conversation
Checking on another friend
Who's not to well
I've got my health
For now the bipolar in me
Has shifted to the middle
More or less
And a tattooed man helps his friend shift
A black monolith of a fridge
It can dispense ice or chilled water
I notice it's covered in hand prints
I mentally place a bet a woman
Will soon be polishing that
Erasing their efforts with pride
And maybe a little simmering resentment
He had a woman tattooed on his flank
And she capitulated under
The strain
Transforming into
A childs scrawl over his tanned hide
People have dumped their old belongings
Outside a charity shop
I showed my thrift
And took a composite cable from the top
The only gold I own is plated at their ends

As I leave elm park on the tube
A young girl walks through the tube
Silently, hand out, a skin cup of circumstance
I empty my right hand jeans pocket
Of the 23p it contains
The 23p I nearly gave to a homeless man
Last night, but I didn't want to disturb him
As he was rolling a cigarette
And when he looked up at me
Asking if I was alright
I bottled it, now I know why
The girl gave the money a disappointed look

Like it was wasting her time
We both knew it wasn't enough
She slipped it into her pocket anyway
And I wonder if she felt any pity for me
My champagne tastes and coca cola pockets
As my friend Steve says about himself
And I've just adapted
Like a bat to the dark

pic from pinterest.com

It's Twenty To One

And everybody been

somebody

Once

Maybe you make your stand in solitary

All politeness and rage

And although part of this sing/songs

Rhymes

I'm not from the street

We used to hang out in groups

only until it got dark

Goonies were the first thing I heard about gangs

The footballs mount up on the roof

where they photo degrade and stay

Due to health and safety and budgetary concerns

I know a patient who went over that wall like he was

SPIDERMAN

Those are the odds you go to ladbrokes for.

Bogden beat them three times

and is still on the run

I don't know if the medicine is more toxic

than the veil of masculinity

But I think I know which will kill me first

In the eve, we play monopoly, even though

there are pieces missing

cards missing

the laughter of rampant capitalism is still there

AND

I don't like everyone

Nor am I fair to everyone

And I still think of Amy Winehouse in Jamaica

Strong and fiery

until bought down by the expectations of others

Et tu Brutus?

           Me to sweetheart

                     I judged and wrote you off

                     Condemned you for drugs and standing by your man

                     But you're right Amy it's boring without the drugs

Here they keep us in check

keep us playing monopoly

They use drugs to keep us all going in many ways

This poem was meant to be more elegant and less

two tone

pic from jillslittlebit.blogspot.com

IN METAPHOR

blood from stone . . .

blood FROM stone ?

blood from STONE !

BLOOD 
from stone ?

yes - 
blood
from stone

everything is permitted
everything is possible

in metaphor

from sagamer.co.za

GUEST POST - 3 X HUMBLES BY MARION MICHELL

pic from blisspot.blogspot.com

more Humbles on instagram here - @marjojo2017
and twitter here - @marjojo2004

EPIC QS

a god thrown hangover
mescaline
3 days without sleep
a carolina reaper 
bad bad daytime freeview tv

or 
  other 
       similar 
              epic impediment

when you can HEAR money
and your HAIR is sore

thats
when
hard questions come in crushing haste

       written
         in

        bold

       italic

   underscore

   strikethru

    CAPITALS

carolina reaper from pepperhead.com