streamers

Streams of light
Streamered night
Filling star-lit sky.
Zipping tails
Correctly nails
Picture-patterned vie.
Falling falls
Glittering rose
Butterfly of halls
Celebrate with pose
And in dark corner
seldom looked
sails little loner.

spludge

In the murky under-lair
Where the rubbish heaps all share
The shadows of the buildings tall,
Towering high above them all,
Overlords chink with bling
While those they dislike fling
Into the slimy pits of goo
Like an old unwanted shoe.

Non-descript children of non-descript workers
Study light and work as shirkers
Knowing that their chance is small
To reach the upper level call;
Yet hoping that mid class will come
To choose one child to leave the rum
And achieve a life where sunlight breathes
And wind can rustle 'midst the trees.

In the dark and spludgey streets
Where one turns not and greets
And giant water urns roll churning
Supplying little lights still burning,
A boarder hovers silently
Others walk by stridently.

If one looks up
They see a cup
Of the sky above them
But in the night
See zooming light
Amidst the winding duction.

yesterday

The other day when I wrote the previous post, I thought it had to be one of the most pointless things I've ever written. On re-reading it and fixing what mistakes jumped out at me, I discovered it was reasonably randomly silly. So I was satisfied... but that brings me to today. What shall I do today when today is already over?

It's hard to think of things to write when here I sit before a keyboard and screen ready to type something nicely profound. Something interesting enough to capture no audience's attention... which is what I'm already doing, but I'm being sarcastic. I'm sure you could tell. When I turn off the computer, lie down in bed, that's when the words flow and imagination runs with motor cars of the air. I could scribble them down and scribble them down, but the effort of getting out of bed and walking all the way over to the light switch is not worth it.

What people want when they read a blog is something different, something unique... something that captures their attention and imagination. Distracts them. Now, my other blog, it kinda did that, but I've temporarily run out of ideas and haven't been bothered (although my official excuse is [of course] that I haven't had the time) to pull out all the stories' bits and pieces and start re-fitting my jigsaw pieces together on a legible board of text.

Now, people will one day say that I have misused my words and that is not how you use a word that means something else... or ... there's no such word in the English dictionary. I'm not sticking with rules. These are thoughts that have thrown themselves out of my head and onto the screen. Some are there just for the sound they make or the colour I associate the word with - because there aren't always the right words I want for expression. Patterns, colours and rhythm. Puzzles that seem and yet don't seem to fit together.

Badabing, badaboom. Figure it out thyselfsom.


Musky though the raskers ride
Fudgy though the felpots slide
On the surfboards of the dry
Ballooning through the air.

Misty on the cyrus tail
Cushy on the fluffy rail
There the butterfly soars on streams
of lifting-falling pare.

Roar of wind
Whistle of hair
Shy of wobble
Why of care.
Here fly freebies of the blue
Flambuoyant
Released
In the mood.