Thursday, 30 June 2016

short forms 30th June 2016

network
changing her grades
through a backdoor hacktool
reduces her IT  bench test
to'C'


© Rachel Green 2016

yellow iris
in the bath-tub pond
chickweeded frog


© Rachel Green 2016

sunshine
for the first time
in a fortnight
On the day there's no-one
to help roof the shed


© Rachel Green 2016

hatemongering
among the lower classes
statistics

most leave voters
in the over fifties bracket
a desire for the past

end immigration by occupying everywhere


© Rachel Green 2016

stinging eyes seven hours of nightmares.

© Rachel Green 2016

Wednesday, 29 June 2016

short forms 29th June 2016

her dog
pulled from his grave
in a mouldy old sack
a wish he was alive again.
Regret


© Rachel Green 2016

fresh strawberries
in time for Wimbledon
Slug connoisseurs


© Rachel Green 2016

gardening plans
ruined by more rain
wettest June ever?
I google the question
and the answer is yes


© Rachel Green 2016

Brexit
already can I see
home-inked swastikas

my Italian wife
pays more in British taxes
than you draw in dole money

cancer research, unfunded


© Rachel Green 2016

ash keys. so difficult to find.

© Rachel Green 2016

Tuesday, 28 June 2016

Teaching Right

Teaching Right


John? John.”

What?” He opened his eyes, or his left at least. His right didn't open. Right. Yeah. He remembered now. He'd been too slow to avoid Jimmy's fist. Too stupid, more like. He rolled over, groaning at the jolt of pain from his ribs where he hit the table going down. There was broken glass next to his head. Shards of pottery. Spots of blood. His? Maybe. Stevie's round face close to tears.

Jesus, John. I thought you were dead.”

It'll take more than that.” He drew his knees up, preparing to stand. “Is he still here?”

No. He's gone out. Mam, too.”

John focused on his brother's face. “He didn't hit you, did he?”

Nah. I hid. He doesn't know where I hide.”

Good.” John knew. Stevie had a shelf at the top of the airing cupboard, above the towels and sheets where their mam couldn't reach to drag him down. At least Stevie wasn't hurt. That made the beatings he got worth it, somehow. Someone would phone the council if a four-year old was bruised. Fifteen year olds, no so much. He rose to his feet to survey the damage. “Help me clean up, Stevie. Jimmie will go spare if he comes home to this.”

short forms 28th June 2016

the boy
brings her flowers;
boxes of chocolates,
the latest Armageddon game.
Romance


© Rachel Green 2016

morning sunshine
segues into wind-driven clouds
ash keys


© Rachel Green 2016

animated film
less than expected
too much hype
the trailer incorporated
all the best bits


© Rachel Green 2016

painting
a portrait of a friend
in oils

first sketch
pleased with the result
white canvas, bleeding paint

*sideways look*


© Rachel Green 2016

political games: promoting dissent through Brexit

© Rachel Green 2016

Monday, 27 June 2016

short forms 27th June 2016

no kings
but principals
and preachers decide fate
in a Roman Catholic school.
Rebel.


© Rachel Green 2016

yesterday's rainclouds
blown by a sunlit breeze
French lavender


© Rachel Green 2016

odd dreams
leave me exhausted
night terror
I suspect much of my stress
is fitness related


© Rachel Green 2016

flash fiction
sent to publisher
no expectations

not only would it be nepotism
but I couldn't take advantage
of any of the prizes

my entry, returned


© Rachel Green 2016

more rain. The grass, waist high

© Rachel Green 2016

Sunday, 26 June 2016

short forms 26th June 2016

his face
like spaghetti
and meatballs. His acne
threatens to be infectious on
his friends


© Rachel Green 2016

wet grass
in the front garden
the first strawberry ripens


© Rachel Green 2016

Sunday morning
parcel delivery man
wakes the household
one huge box from Amazon
one tiny roll of vetwrap


© Rachel Green 2016

another attempt
to re-rook the shed
ended in rain

clearing away stems
of polygonum
brings in light

thousands of snails


© Rachel Green 2016

Short story contest. Her automatic disqualification.

© Rachel Green 2016

Saturday, 25 June 2016

short forms 25th June 2016

a dream
where her mum's ghost
returns to warn her about
the consequences of dating boys.
Condoms.


© Rachel Green 2016

morning
the scent of elderflowers
hanging in the air


© Rachel Green 2016

tip run
the corrugated bitumen
from the garden
the stink of decomposition
and a mountain of slugs


© Rachel Green 2016

driving
to fetch Lina
from work

getting the car out
from the line of family vehicles
a small challenge

getting it in again...


© Rachel Green 2016

She's loving jiu-jitsu. Misses training KAPAP

© Rachel Green 2016

Friday, 24 June 2016

short forms 24th June 2016

her love
drowned in the bath
when her father took his phone
for sending teacher a dick-pic.
Flowers


© Rachel Green 2016

thin slug
climbs to the top of the grass
mower blades


© Rachel Green 2016

please don't feel offended
if I remove you from my friends list
it's just that I think you're an idiot
You honestly believe the bullshit
fed to you by xenophobic facists?


© Rachel Green 2016

racing about
trying to clean and tidy
mother-in-law coming

the teenager
swept and vacuumed,
cleaned the bathroom

never have I loved her more


© Rachel Green 2016

hope for Britain now fading fast

© Rachel Green 2016

Thursday, 23 June 2016

short forms 23rd June 2016

her friends
in a car crash
killed on the morning bus
when a speeding mum overtakes
crossing


© Rachel Green 2016

almost sunset
seagulls across the sands
stolen sausage


© Rachel Green 2016

memories
reproduced in film
nightmares
a row of overdressed ladies
stroll along a beach


© Rachel Green 2016

worst meal ever
at Harry Ramsden's
in Scarborough

veggie meal
deep fried and overcooked
fish dripping with fat

chips dry and tasteless


© Rachel Green 2016

evening waves. the sand castle falls

© Rachel Green 2016

Wednesday, 22 June 2016

short forms 22nd june 2016

cover
new idea
do I change Stevie's sword
for a more likely machete
or not?


© Rachel Green 2016

wild geraniums
overshadow dwarf conifers
crow's wings


© Rachel Green 2016

a day
fixing a sink
nightmare
seven trips to the plumbing section
and the pipe still leaks


© Rachel Green 2016

painting
a new cover
for the new novel

a friend's son
poses for Stevie
with a machete

oil on canvas


© Rachel Green 2016

sweat stained bedsheets. Another work nightmare.

© Rachel Green 2016

Tuesday, 21 June 2016

short forms 21st June 2016

classroom:
honesty is
not the best policy
when you are a racist bigot.
Take care.


© Rachel Green 2016

solstice sun
showing a tinge of pink
strawberry plants


© Rachel Green 2016

sleep
without nightmares
brings relief
it's been so long
since I woke refreshed


© Rachel Green 2016

warning labels
written in Punjabi
baby monitor

I'm using it
as an expensive way to contact me
from upstairs

and for me to see the dogs


© Rachel Green 2016

determination to get fit. Cheese sandwich.

© Rachel Green 2016

Monday, 20 June 2016

short forms 20th June 2016

running
through springtime woods
with her dog at her heels.
Her real-world troubles forgotten.
Carefree.


© Rachel Green 2016

lush growth
after a week of rain
flooded roses


© Rachel Green 2016

oiled nudes
out on display
painted wings
imagining beautiful men
as fallen angels


© Rachel Green 2016

drunk child
a night out
with her workmates

she is, at least,
a genial drunk
effusive and funny

rolling on the floor with her dog


© Rachel Green 2016

The flickering of the television. Sleep.

© Rachel Green 2016

Sunday, 19 June 2016

short forms 19th June 2016

she cries
for lost brothers
never realising
she's having a psychotic break.
not dead


© Rachel Green 2016

nasturtiam seedlings
take over the border
crowded poppies


© Rachel Green 2016

nightmares
about neglectful people
sweat-soaked sheets
in the traffic queue the driver in front
discards his cigarette


© Rachel Green 2016

I worry that being trans
will make our daughter trans
when she's older --

just as my parents being straight
made me straight as well
oh, wait a minute...

people are just people, aren't they.


© Rachel Green 2016

Handfasting gathering. Fatigued by social interactions.

© Rachel Green 2016

Saturday, 18 June 2016

short forms 18thth June 2016

brothers
never come back
from being run over
so why is he talking to her?
Potty.


© Rachel Green 2016

tall grass
on composted remains
dry bones


© Rachel Green 2016

plans
to go somewhere
I grew up
A handfasting in the rain
among the memories


© Rachel Green 2016

old dog
almost blind
cries piteously

every morning
forgets his condition
rubs his eyes

trying to rub the blindness away


© Rachel Green 2016

signing a contract. cover painting due.

© Rachel Green 2016

Friday, 17 June 2016

short forms 17th June 2016

new love
for Gallagher,
the Irish lad at school.
He's a really good swimmer, by
accounts


© Rachel Green 2016

wild geranium
among the fast growing grass
convolvulus dance


© Rachel Green 2016

painting nude guys
I can appreciate them ascetically
without the usual disgust
of course, it always helps
when I imagine demons


© Rachel Green 2016

flash advertisement
shows a surprised woman
with her mouth open

a slogan declares
she can get a binary robot
that actually works

perhaps it has a big output


© Rachel Green 2016

ideas for new novel. At last.

© Rachel Green 2016

Thursday, 16 June 2016

short forms 16th June 2016

stalled book
I need to write
the Chloe story now
but I can't find a story path
cliche


© Rachel Green 2016

heavy rain
even the slugs take shelter
battered poppies


© Rachel Green 2016

self defence
ramps up a notch
old habits return
sometimes I don't know
but my muscles remember


© Rachel Green 2016

minutes pass
she attacks the choke
nutcracker, cross-collar

she attempts the baseball
forgets how it goes
switches to armbar

attempted mounted triangle


© Rachel Green 2016

torrential rain. She cycles home, soaked.

© Rachel Green 2016

Wednesday, 15 June 2016

short forms 15th June 2016

word blind
the terror of
forgetting proper nouns
ten minutes googling "little plant
blue blooms"


© Rachel Green 2016

blue flowers
on seedling aubretias
hatching slugs


© Rachel Green 2016

new phone
same old number
upgrade
it'll take some getting used to
but at least my apps work


© Rachel Green 2016

warnings
about eyesight
in a dim room

don't use a magnifying glass
when you own some glasses
it's not allowed.

a writer's blindness


© Rachel Green 2016

jiu-jitsu. she's lost all her skills.

© Rachel Green 2016

Tuesday, 14 June 2016

short forms 14th June 2016

wet mud
at the north point
noxious gas, pond water
she really shouldn't burn her bra
just there


© Rachel Green 2016

visitor
demands midnight entry
garden slug


© Rachel Green 2016

rush hour traffic
parents doing school runs
and corporate wankers
at the traffic island
the drive in front drops litter


© Rachel Green 2016

separate
your loving partner
from her friends

tell her how bad
her mother is treating her
controlled indifference

plant a seed of moving away


© Rachel Green 2016

some exercise kick-starts her metabolism

© Rachel Green 2016

Monday, 13 June 2016

short forms 13th June 2016

attempts
to summon dad
using a ouija board
end in a disaster of sorts.
Portal.


© Rachel Green 2016

white flowers
on the strawberry plants
anticipatory slugs


© Rachel Green 2016

downpour
we take shelter
under a holly tree
Amos finds new delight
unexpected mudhole


© Rachel Green 2016

problems
in plumbing
sliced finger

the tap still drips
even after the washer
is replaced

screaming


© Rachel Green 2016

she retreats into her imaginary world

© Rachel Green 2016

Sunday, 12 June 2016

short forms 12th June 2016

20160612_091603 Hamlet
tragic hero
with just two loyal friends
who don't survive him anyway.
Undead.


© Rachel Green 2016

dog food
on the kitchen floor
garden snails


© Rachel Green 2016

painting
purely for pleasure
no sales
the lack of hanging space
promotes recycling


© Rachel Green 2016

unsold watercolours
shredded and burned
boxes and folders

they take up space
for no good reason
surplus to requirements

a bit like me, sometimes


© Rachel Green 2016

spider egg on her shoulder. Pain.

© Rachel Green 2016

Saturday, 11 June 2016

short forms 11th June 2016

she asks
for another
of those one-time offers
if he wants to make a sale he'll
comply


© Rachel Green 2016

raindrops
hanging from the honeysuckle
sheltering butterflies


© Rachel Green 2016

Trckster
barking like a nutter
odd guest
honestly, I love her but
shut the fuck up


© Rachel Green 2016

writer's block
enters its third year
why can't I move on?

I wrote a great novella
but the Chloe novel
is still stalled

time to give up?


© Rachel Green 2016

he removes a cyst by scalpel

© Rachel Green 2016

Friday, 10 June 2016

poetry 2016/062

Northampton, 4:32 AM

late night café
the windows opaque
with the steaming rain
from midnight clientèle still damp.

sulphurous shadows
as early morning streetlights
hide her eyes beneath a black fedora,
just the glint of plum fingernails
clutching the head of a temporary lover
as she goes down
split jeans turning dark
the inky black of pavement pools.
Floodlit by the lights of a passing car
she turns her head,
closing her eyes against the glare.
The whoop of teenage boys
as the engine dopplers away
lost into the threat of morning.

Morning cigarettes turn to ash
litter the pavement.
The lingering damp spot on my cheek
where she kissed me goodbye
and the orange glow of the petrol light.

short forms 10th June 2016

demon
fascinated
with her television
last time he saw one there were three
channels


© Rachel Green 2016

peony petals
scattered on beach pebbles
discarded fish


© Rachel Green 2016

last night
of the heart monitor
blistered skin
the incessant beeping
of a failed contact


© Rachel Green 2016

new painting
switches to figurative
prostitution

my paintings don't sell
ideas are outlandish
and too abstract

I'll try erotica


© Rachel Green 2016

she's too fat for keep-fit

© Rachel Green 2016

Thursday, 9 June 2016

short forms 9th June 2016

hours
spent online
learning dad's CAD program
then learning to replicate his
mistakes


© Rachel Green 2016

garden mushroom
on the newly seeded grass
blue tits


© Rachel Green 2016

last day
of the heart monitor
aching ribs
what a relief it will be
to not wear a tee shirt to bed


© Rachel Green 2016

old dog
rubs his eyes
on the sofa, the carpet

he thinks blindness
is something over his eyes
obscuring vision

and as for his deafness...


© Rachel Green 2016

lingering cold. she needs some control

© Rachel Green 2016

Wednesday, 8 June 2016

short forms 8th June 2016

petals
on the floorboards
her mother's roses have
been reduced to dry, withered stalks.
Treasured.


© Rachel Green 2016

overnight rain
the grass grows three inches
lost guinea pigs


© Rachel Green 2016

query
on the last novella
confused dates?
my misremembered youth
with the wrong president


© Rachel Green 2016

and in other queries
is history still taught by rote?
lists of kings

and presidents of
independent colonies?
What about the Diggers?

or is it all social theory now?


© Rachel Green 2016

crying dog. he wants her cereal.

© Rachel Green 2016

Tuesday, 7 June 2016

short forms 7th June 2016

tragic
to lose parents
even more so for heroes
to have them both alive and well.
damaged


© Rachel Green 2016

grey squirrel
motionless on a beech trunk
oblivious dogs


© Rachel Green 2016

morning walk
Laetiporus sulphurous
on an oak tree
one of the best-tasting fungi
vegetarian "chicken"


© Rachel Green 2016

sticky pads
hold on the electrodes
heart monitor

my sides ache from them
daily removal and exchange
while I shower

reddened skin


© Rachel Green 2016

steadily losing value. Her self-esteem.

© Rachel Green 2016

Monday, 6 June 2016

short forms 6th June 2016

free love
less desired
than slightly expensive.
Better to be offered Tizer
she thinks


© Rachel Green 2016

deep shade
under the Russian vine
woodlice and slugs


© Rachel Green 2016

car trip
to walk the dogs
on Ochre dyke
Amos wriggles out of his harness
and runs off down the road


© Rachel Green 2016

pushing myself
on Sunday afternoon
gardening

after three hours
my hands are shaking
my legs wobbly

minor strokes fuck you up


© Rachel Green 2016

when the coughing starts again. Breathless.

© Rachel Green 2016

Sunday, 5 June 2016

short forms 5th June 2016

all the
will in the world
can't make Jenny happy
only an ice-cream from the shop
will do


© Rachel Green 2016

grey sky
over the lawn
dandelion clocks


© Rachel Green 2016

heart monitor
makes a valid point
life is fleeting
how can I be so old
when I feel so young?


© Rachel Green 2016

lesbians in love
self drive removals van
joint cat

let's get married
we've known each other for weeks
it must be fate

whose lawnmower is this?


© Rachel Green 2016

she thinks bran good for her

© Rachel Green 2016

Saturday, 4 June 2016

short forms 4th June 2016

paintings
her mum in white
a six-foot self portrait
that her friends think is a bit weird.
nude pose


© Rachel Green 2016

raspberry canes
climbing through the new lawn
convolvulus


© Rachel Green 2016

suffering chap
wakes in the night
coughing, coughing
exhausted by illness
and Orphan Black


© Rachel Green 2016

garden centre
I fall in love again
blue rose

DK and Lu
buy it together for me
surprise gift

cash transfers so I remember it was both of them


© Rachel Green 2016

selective memory based on whose wallet.

© Rachel Green 2016

Friday, 3 June 2016

short forms 3rd June 2016

The Goods
need a name change
an historical tale
set in the 1970's.
TV show


© Rachel Green 2016

birdsong
among the elderflowers
dog poo landmines


© Rachel Green 2016

hospital appointment
to be fitted for a 'life card'
for a week
No showering and the pads
are really itchy.


© Rachel Green 2016

Amos
new confidence
should be called ASBO

morning sprint
when he runs off
toward dock side

poor Jack's drag


© Rachel Green 2016

lose weight? She's running to fat.

© Rachel Green 2016

Thursday, 2 June 2016

short forms 2nd June 2016

the skull
of her rabbit
dug from the old garden
and kept safe in a coffee tin.
rebirth?


© Rachel Green 2016

high wind
among the hawthorn blossom
sycamore leaves swirl


© Rachel Green 2016

today
will be mostly spent
trying to fix a car
I can see a scrapyard
in our near future


© Rachel Green 2016

blocked nose
leads to wheezing
and shortness of breath

a box of tissues
lasts less than a day
snot filled carrier bags

officially fed up of this now


© Rachel Green 2016

new painting. she sells for paint.

© Rachel Green 2016

Wednesday, 1 June 2016

short forms 1st June 2016

she loves
her father best
but her new stepmother
thinks the relationship too close.
Complaints.


© Rachel Green 2016

blackbird
on the highest, thinnest twig
a child's balloon


© Rachel Green 2016

still poorly
another jiu-jitsu lesson
cancelled
Honestly, I could fill a pond
with the snot I'm producing.


© Rachel Green 2016

laundry day
I try to wash the sheets
and dry them quickly

the other sheets are old
(though bought most recently)
their surface bobbled

better to use the colourful ones


© Rachel Green 2016

oil on canvas. Her transitional paintings.

© Rachel Green 2016