Wednesday, 28 June 2017

short forms 28th June 2017

she's trans
in her own way
a desire to be them;
a genderfluid disciple
of life


© Rachel Green 2017

overnight rain
against the deep lavender
flattened stalks


© Rachel Green 2017

bedroom clock
running slow
dead batteries
it's a wonder I'm never late
for a funeral


© Rachel Green 2017

I used to fight
upon being woken
by an unexpected touch

now I wake
and apologise for snoring,
breathing, existing

patterns developed by partners


© Rachel Green 2017

drooping eyes indicate tiredness (or stroke)

© Rachel Green 2017

Tuesday, 27 June 2017

short forms 27th June 2017

journey
her dead brother
and the seven gates of Hell.
What else must she give of herself
to win?


© Rachel Green 2017

raspberries
rotting on the stems
last week's strawberries


© Rachel Green 2017

bad dreams
leave me fatigued
morning drowsiness
pranks played on adults
unexpected consequences


© Rachel Green 2017

bad dreams
stem from anxiety
and fear

I fall asleep again
in front of the computer
hands tucked to armpits

cold in June


© Rachel Green 2017

gas-lift chair. Her trapped finger.

© Rachel Green 2017

Monday, 26 June 2017

short forms 26th June 2017

novel
due in three months
but I haven't started.
About time I managed a plot
at least


© Rachel Green 2017

midsummer heat
gives way to overcast chills
fledgling sparrow


© Rachel Green 2017

raised lump
on her index finger
may be a wart

the pain in her back
from a blocked sweat gland
constant

her pulled muscle makes walking painful


© Rachel Green 2017

content
to be sidelined
glossed over
A creature of past glories
all now forgotten


© Rachel Green 2017

vitamin tablets make her defecation runny

© Rachel Green 2017

Sunday, 25 June 2017

short forms 25th June 2017

knowledge
her stepmother
wasn't born a woman.
Did it affect the love she gave?
Who cares?


© Rachel Green 2017

lavender
fanciful sprays
overgrown lawn


© Rachel Green 2017

all you touch
can be reduced
ashes and dust
nothing is permanent
especially not you


© Rachel Green 2017

Jiu-jitsu
the realisation
finally comes

I'm not very good
and I never will be --
too old, too slow

but I love the game


© Rachel Green 2017

she's not young anymore. That's okay.

© Rachel Green 2017

Monday, 19 June 2017

short forms 19th June 2017

gamers:
a confession
from FingerDigitThree
that they're not biologically
a boy


© Rachel Green 2017

evening fire
the heat of the day dies down
fleeting bats


© Rachel Green 2017

sent off a CV
about my writing career
looking for publication
I suspect I'm way too old
and too established a writer


© Rachel Green 2017

old friend
drunker than a box of weevils
spending the night

He becomes depressed again
drives home intoxicated
while all are asleep

I check the news feeds


© Rachel Green 2017

frogs. A whole box of them.

© Rachel Green 2017

Sunday, 18 June 2017

short forms 18th June 2017

deer, sheep, sunglasses
hard drive
wiped long ago
but never used since then.
The recovery of accounts
and nudes


© Rachel Green 2017

love hearts
spread out in the sun
strawberry-fat slugs


© Rachel Green 2017

pulled muscle
it really bugs me
that I can't walk
Jiu-jitsu, though?
work through the pain


© Rachel Green 2017

catfishing
between two minors
no prosecution

how was he to know
his online best friend
was a homophobe?

closed box


© Rachel Green 2017

Her spider egg a constant ache

© Rachel Green 2017

Saturday, 17 June 2017

short forms 17th June 2017

the texts
from a schoolfriend
why don't you kill yourself?
Ten years before the law caught up
with phones


© Rachel Green 2017

morning heat
two little girls raid the garden
strawberry theft


© Rachel Green 2017

Lu requests green tea
but we appear to be out
(apart from one ginger green bag)
I have failed in my duty
to stock the cupboards


© Rachel Green 2017

aching leg
a pulled muscle
after jiu-jitsu

It means I limp
and have trouble standing
or walking

I still do jiu-jitsu


© Rachel Green 2017

barrel-shaped dog. Abusive mother, me.

© Rachel Green 2017