He asked me all about my five-year plan
As though that’s something everyone has made
I ummed and aahhed and mumbled something vague
About organic growth and being paid.
The truth is that I never want to tell
I’m always waiting for a fun surprise
To lift me out from under life’s mundane
And gentle ebb and flow, into the skies.
I find it all-too-sad to just admit
What life would be without that strange delight
Of unexpected twist and turn and leap
The things that keep us up awake at night
So I refuse to plan for five years on
But hope the Euromillions to have won.
The tallest man in all the world
He raised us to the sky
The bravest man in all the world
With wit so sharp and wry
But charm and lies are each a face
A gold coin has to bear
But charm and lies, they turn to ash
Carried in foul air
The cruellest man in all the world
He smashed her on the floor
The coldest man in all the world
Our hero nevermore.
My fingers linger and twist the ring – I used to sing but no, not any more. The lyrics trip and stick in my windpipe til I barely remember them.
But eyes and lies sparkle until thighs do part and what was will be sung again. A new refrain. And fingers will linger til nothing but bruises remain.
Warmth gives way to blackness
Something I may never recover
My memory is under a blanket of wine
Or it was a bed never made
Sunlight cuts through my head
Only after bitter medicine
Can I begin to heal
Elegy as a concept – fine. Elegiac was just too stressful. I need to figure out how meter actually works before I really have to use it!
Give a dog
Baby and Baby
are singing again. My favourite.
Knick-knack, knick-knack, knick-knack
Oh! Go on! What’s
for me? Tell me!
I need to know.
I know – I’ll sit.
I can’t keep my
tail still. I’ll roll
over. That’ll do it.
They’re not watching me so
I’ll speak. Now they’re cross. I’ll lick
faces to say I’m sorry. Yum
Tastier than treats.
Far be it from me to see the best in someone
And yet here I rest, head on your chest
Is love blind? I don’t know or mind.
Trust is a warm pool in my heart
How far from harm, here in your arms.
Goodness me, just in before the deadline! I almost didn’t make it… Acrostics *and* rhyming? I could always break out my GCSE English exercise books.
A wanderer I know I’m not
I just want to be somewhere hot
The thought of air travel
Makes me start to unravel
I wish I could just teleport.
The road to wellness
How will I know when I’m there?
Will I skip and cavort without care?
Does depression just cease?
Panic turn into peace?
Fearful feelings fly off in the air?
Puffed and indented
As firm as long-set aspic
I will pee for days
My first thought after writing this (and looking at others’ work!) is that it’s kind of ugly. My second thought is that that’s okay. In the thick of the third trimester, things are ugly and somewhat comical, but oddly fascinating, and I think that this perfectly sums it up.