Saturday, 31 December 2016

short forms 31st December 2016

Chloe
becoming me
in varying degrees
write what you know, they said.
Do I?


© Rachel Green 2016

flapping thrush
on a rainy morning
streaks of clean


© Rachel Green 2016

UFC 307
Rousey lasts 48 seconds
gets three million
Honestly? I'd get knocked out
for three hundred.


© Rachel Green 2016

selfie project
still going after two years
compiled

some problem with the software
causes extensive delay
choker cropping and rotation

sorted by Movie Maker


© Rachel Green 2016

Final walk of 2016. dog's excitement.

© Rachel Green 2016

Friday, 30 December 2016

Poem 2016 / 108

Corgi's Dad

He cuts a dapper figure
against the frost-pocked pavement
amidst the gay detritus
of post-Christmas dustbin collection
(We're allowed to leave an extra bag
of 'festive waste' next to the bin.)
Two dogs on leads, an old corgi
moving slow as a Brussels sprout on a child's fork
and a feisty Parson's terrier, full of the joy
of Christmas morning,
even though it's Wednesday already
and time for the end-of-year best-ofs on the telly.

His polished brogues cut a swathe
through newly minted ice crystals,
his stick a polished meter of time-hewn yew.
A fifties Mackintosh over a tweed three-piece
collar and tie, naturally,
though as a nod to the new century
he walks without a hat,
the polished gleam of his pate
blinding in the early sun.
He greets the old lady at sixty-eight,
nods to the goddess from seventy,
who looks younger now than she did twelve years ago,
moves with the opposite of haste
a widdershins circumambulation
of a litter-strewn the street.

short forms 30th December 2016

a form
try to pin down
Chloes revised timeline
the idea of time loop
with mum


© Rachel Green 2016

a flurry of black
fades into the deep mist
passing crow


© Rachel Green 2016

rules changes
make judo more appealing
to viewers
a step away from self defence
towards a spectator sport


© Rachel Green 2016

Samwise Bartholomew Trumperton
an orange guinea pig
with flattened hairstyle

also a nod to the brilliance
of a short lived Youtube show
Salad Fingers

my kind of humour


© Rachel Green 2016

A week of bad eating. Overweight.

© Rachel Green 2016

Thursday, 29 December 2016

short forms December 29th 2016

her mum
disappeared
just after her birthday
raised by her father to give back.
Old Gods.


© Rachel Green 2016

contrail
against the blue, blue
frosted grass


© Rachel Green 2016

long dream
about familial love
after a coma
They build me a cottage
with white padded walls


© Rachel Green 2016

festive fire
to burn all the rubbish
left over from Christmas

cardboard boxes
and gay wrapping paper
the old closet door

Aunt Madge's Republican Bible


© Rachel Green 2016

She doesn't like the tee shirt.

© Rachel Green 2016

Wednesday, 28 December 2016

short forms 28th December 2016

mourning
her suicide
the body was never found
Now he's lost his daughter and her
mother


© Rachel Green 2016

frosty morning
even Chesterfield becomes pretty
proto clouds


© Rachel Green 2016

greenhouse plans
turn the unroofed  folly
into a polytunnel
achievable in both skill
and cost effectiveness


© Rachel Green 2016

Christmas chaos
dies slowly down
tidying to do

My massive pile of shoes
cluttering the study floor
shoe organiser ordered

Anyone want some books?


© Rachel Green 2016

Her library of Christian Bigotry, redundant

© Rachel Green 2016

Tuesday, 27 December 2016

short forms 27th December 2016

deal
for happiness
fifteen years of her life
that he promises she won't miss
car crash


© Rachel Green 2016

windy day
the garden full of
Christmas wrapping


© Rachel Green 2016

what does one do
with a ripped kimono
unmendable
It seems disloyal to burn
perhaps I'll compost


© Rachel Green 2016

too much junk food
leaves me bloated
no will power, see

perhaps I'll be better
when the New Year comes
and I'm poorer still

Farewell, old girl


© Rachel Green 2016

Child's drawing. Fat with a penis.

© Rachel Green 2016

Monday, 26 December 2016

short forms 26th December 2016

voices
written women
a mother, a teen girl
and the desires of demons.
Time shift


© Rachel Green 2016

motorbike
wrapped up for winter
obscured by leaves


© Rachel Green 2016

Matlock Bath
traditional raft race
followed by chips
a veritable tableaux
woollen scarves and dogs


© Rachel Green 2016

her baby
offered to the gods
lost in the river

a mother
leaves hearth and home
ashamed of choices

cyclic desire


© Rachel Green 2016

fifteen years off the end of days

© Rachel Green 2016

Sunday, 25 December 2016

short forms 25th December 2016

Christmas
in the Good house
a time of family
and recriminations for past
misdeeds


© Rachel Green 2016

high winds
the garden full of dead leaves
again


© Rachel Green 2016

Christmas
a delay in poetry
during gift time
The dogs fret about walking
where's our mom?


© Rachel Green 2016

crowded house
I make friends with a child
and soften a little

a new kimono
to replace the torn and battered
Chesterfield jiu-jitsu

new year, new writing regime?


© Rachel Green 2016

Missing the friends I've never met.

© Rachel Green 2016

Saturday, 24 December 2016

short forms 24th December 2016

het sex
still a turn-on
for a declared gay girl
an eruption of violence.
Think again


© Rachel Green 2016

single toadstool
on impossibly fragile stalk
battered by rain


© Rachel Green 2016

cracked nose
on the rear door of the car
instant KO
Two days later
pass the aspirin


© Rachel Green 2016

dog paws
turned to the sky
peaceful dreaming

gentle huffs
as three chests rise and fall
the scent of cheesy wotsits

a little piece of Heaven


© Rachel Green 2016

Streaming nose. Not another cold, please.

© Rachel Green 2016

Friday, 23 December 2016

short forms 23rd December 2016

plot points
arranged on cards
shuffled into timeline
rearranged to make a statement
happy?


© Rachel Green 2016

sycamore leaf
blowing past the window
festive paper


© Rachel Green 2016

she collects
her own used cotton buds
traces of earwax
a scientific study of amount
and colour based on diet


© Rachel Green 2016

jiu-jitsu techniques
demonstrated at speed
with significant force

much hilarity and out-takes
(I'm a rubbish actor)
he gets enough footage

badass Rachel


© Rachel Green 2016

stencils make excellent cards. Especially rearranged

© Rachel Green 2016

Thursday, 22 December 2016

short forms 23rd December 2016

tired
of excuses
for not getting it planned out
I purchase Scrivener
and try


© Rachel Green 2016

winter morning
the remains of a fire
blackened beams


© Rachel Green 2016

fun day out
DK and Lu with the grandkids
and two cars
visiting the National Space Centre
(but I'll stay at home, thanks)


© Rachel Green 2016

flashing lights
leave much to be desired
neighbour's house

apparently
watching them flicker
reduces dementia

I stare for hours, unblinking


© Rachel Green 2016

last jiu-jitsu lesson of the year.

© Rachel Green 2016

Wednesday, 21 December 2016

short forms 21st December 2016

old flame
tempts her once more
the promise of a flesh cock
when she's used to hard silicone .
Faithless.


© Rachel Green 2016

solstice morning
the glimmer of light
behind a curtain


© Rachel Green 2016

her belt
went missing months ago
turns up
The back of the bathroom door
was empty before, I swear


© Rachel Green 2016

I liked "Write It Now"
as a program but losing my work
made me program-shy

No there's an offer for Scrivener
if I can raise the forty quid
Will it help my writing?

Will I ever be a good writer?


© Rachel Green 2016

Rhetorical questions? Her answer's always 'no.'

© Rachel Green 2016

Tuesday, 20 December 2016

short forms 20th December 2016

Chloe
has stalled again
while I form new plot points.
I resisted carding the tale
'til now


© Rachel Green 2016

electrical discards
await the bin collection
interested crows


© Rachel Green 2016

tinsel
on a bare birch
in the rain
the holiday season interrupts
my jiu-jitsu training


© Rachel Green 2016

new shoes
from a visitor
to the house

she was discarding a load
and two pairs fit me
somewhat unusual

Thanks, Becky


© Rachel Green 2016

Please be nice to me. Thanks.

© Rachel Green 2016

Monday, 19 December 2016

short forms 19th December 2016

"uncle"
ten years older
dad's sister's widower
she reminds him of his late wife
her aunt


© Rachel Green 2016

dead pigeon
in the cemetery bin
discarded cedar tree


© Rachel Green 2016

Mr Trump
(an orange guinea pig with stupid hair)
teaches himself to beg
for pieces of carrot
or has he taught me to offer them?


© Rachel Green 2016

a thousand pages
too long for a novel
cut it down

Best to cut eighty percent
to leave it a shade under
two hundred

that's eight words in ten


© Rachel Green 2016

Edits. Killing darlings loses the intimacy.

© Rachel Green 2016

Sunday, 18 December 2016

short forms 18th December 2016

Chloe
is evolving
I have to make some cards
to keep track of the characters
hate crimes


© Rachel Green 2016

cirrus clouds
against the pale, pale blue
black wings


© Rachel Green 2016

house full
people can be a bit loud
in large quantities
Easier to digest
when in smaller chunks


© Rachel Green 2016

birthday meals
best avoided
at this time of year

note to self:
make a bit of an effort
buy birthday wrapping

wish them well from afar


© Rachel Green 2016

over-eating and bonfire smoke. headache.

© Rachel Green 2016

Saturday, 17 December 2016

short forms 17th December 2016

top names
for lesbians
comes in with Alex at
number one. You know someone called
Alex


© Rachel Green 2016

single sparrow
perched on the chimney
"Top o' the world, Ma"


© Rachel Green 2016

early jiu-jitsu
9AM sparring
with Dom
He's surprisingly good
for only seven month's training


© Rachel Green 2016

busy morning
then sudden peace
people go home

Aimee off walking
and Gina back to Worthing
Lu goes upstairs

sleeping dogs


© Rachel Green 2016

cockwombles. She's not black, after all!

© Rachel Green 2016

Friday, 16 December 2016

short forms 16th December 2016

car doors
making him flinch
as he hears them slam.
What new horrors have the locals
brought him?


© Rachel Green 2016

night dark
the moon a mere crescent
owl hoot


© Rachel Green 2016

bipolar parents
inbred racist homophobes
produce good kids
I wish I'd known my mother
but my father was awful


© Rachel Green 2016

A3 canvasses
bought for portraits
by stencil

Quentin Crisp
or Julie Andrews
as Victor Victoria?

or the floundering Sally?


© Rachel Green 2016

walking in shadow. Woodland drug deals

© Rachel Green 2016

Thursday, 15 December 2016

short forms 15th December 2016

dismay
the racial slurs
scrawled over her dad's house
reveal his reclusiveness
White trash


© Rachel Green 2016

glittering night
the neighbour's Christmas lights
broken glass


© Rachel Green 2016

lapsed fever
illness-induced nightmares
finally fade
Enjoying sweat-free sheets
I oversleep


© Rachel Green 2016

plough on
find a reason for prose
and write it down

worry about the plot later
that's what editing is for
and superfluous words

just have a vague goal


© Rachel Green 2016

She's lesbian through choice, not trauma.

© Rachel Green 2016

Wednesday, 14 December 2016

short forms 14th December 2016

grown-up
she asks her dad
about her birth parents.
Where was she adopted from? Who
gave up?


© Rachel Green 2016

a knot of sparrows
circumnavigate a bare oak
late fruit


© Rachel Green 2016

the need to write
becoming overwhelming
new novel
my terror at writing badly
crippling


© Rachel Green 2016

thirty copies
of a poetry collection
wait to be signed

excerpts of the past
people I have loved
if just for one night

all fade into the past


© Rachel Green 2016

fighting illness. Her muscles weaken. Strength.

© Rachel Green 2016

Tuesday, 13 December 2016

chloe flash

Barter

“Look at 'er.” Angie tilted her head toward the cardboard cut-out in the window on Strand and Masons. “What I wouldn't give to have her life.”

“What I wouldn't give to have her figure.” Chloe licked the last of the chocolate from the KitKat wrapper and looked for a bin to drop it in. It the absence of a suitable receptacle, she twisted the plastic into a strip and knotted it, holding it casually on the inside of her second and third fingers until she was close enough to a woman with laden bags from Redman's supermarket, then dropped it casually among her vegetables.

“I know what you mean.” Angela twisted to look at her own bum.

“What you on about?” Chloe couldn't look at her own bum with a pair of mirrors. “You're even thinner than she is.”

“I'm still young though. She's old. Twenty-five at least.”

“That's not old. My brother's older than that and he's still a prat.”

“Yeah. Dishy, though.” Angela pushed open the door. “You coming?”

“Nah.” Chloe had a general disagreement with the policies of Strand and Mason's. She'd rather buy clothes that fitted more than one of her legs. “I'll wait out here.”

“What would you give to be her size?”

Chloe jumped at the voice and turned, her heart hammering. She hadn't even heard the bloke walk up, and it was a cobbled street. “You what?”

“Would your give your right arm?”

short forms 13th December 2016

return
to Laverstone
introspective leaning
towards the chaos of the past.
Terror.


© Rachel Green 2016

morning pink
occluded by winter clouds
cancelled trains


© Rachel Green 2016

more nightmares
this time Jack becomes savage
I have to kill him
three cuts with a blunt knife
and he still won't die


© Rachel Green 2016

new blog
for the new novel
backing it up!

taking a leaf from Stephanie
making the blog invite-only
chapter by chapter.

New writing target.


© Rachel Green 2016

she sets herself an impossible task

© Rachel Green 2016

Monday, 12 December 2016

poetry 2016 / 107

Remote Detonator
Newcastle University 1981

Astronomy for Engineers
became more complicated
when I shifted focus from the too-small blackboard
seventy feet and two stories down
to the Malayan girl in the row in front
ignoring the lecturer
to strip wires with a tiny knife,
connecting them one by one
to a tiny circuit board
no bigger then her finer.
This was the eighties
when we weren't afraid of Asians
only Germans and Catholics
who dropped pipe bombs in the windows
of Saturday afternoons
but watching those delicate, pink-tipped fingers
gave me an appreciation for dexterity
that lasted long after I failed the course
and turned to Art instead.

short forms 12th December 2016

abuse
devil worship
a false accusation
by terrified social worker
arrest


© Rachel Green 2016

robin red-breast
posing for a photograph
stalking cat


© Rachel Green 2016

fever dreams
the worst kind of torture porn
where I'm the victim
I could take them one-on-one
but there are six of them


© Rachel Green 2016

cancelled jiu-jitsu
because of illness
shame

I really love the sport
can't wait to do more
when we move away

loyalty to the teacher


© Rachel Green 2016

her first shipment of poetry books.

© Rachel Green 2016

Sunday, 11 December 2016

short forms 11th December 2016

grown up
benign tumour
presses on optic nerves
her father doesn't believe her.
Visions


© Rachel Green 2016

TV aerial
Analogue reception
watchful crow


© Rachel Green 2016

fever dreams
faces from the past
tormenting
My father offers a puppy
and I decline


© Rachel Green 2016

visitors
Helen, Rowan and others
terrified dog

I am confined
to my computer room
infectious

How I loathe illness


© Rachel Green 2016

she debates next art piece. Iconic?

© Rachel Green 2016

Saturday, 10 December 2016

short forms 19th December 2016

trouble
from childhood
her introverted self
after the loss of her brother
and mum


© Rachel Green 2016

striated clouds
sand after the tide has gone
combed wavy


© Rachel Green 2016

lurgy
despite my fight
I go down with it
The one problem of jiu-jitsu:
the sharing of germs


© Rachel Green 2016

portrait of DK
in five layers of stencil
now complete

layers of blue, black
purple and orange
spots of gold

he seems pleased with it


© Rachel Green 2016

aching neck, lungs, sinuses. Day off.

© Rachel Green 2016

Friday, 9 December 2016

short forms 9th December 2016

Only she
sees the demon
her father's marrying.
Is this real or a throwback?
Illness


© Rachel Green 2016

uprooted dogwood
hanging on by a thread
red stems


© Rachel Green 2016

oh ffs
I've spent too much time
watching Madonna
now I'm late
angsty dogs


© Rachel Green 2016

Across the road
Christmas lights in force
both houses

This year
more tasteful than last
No spiralling rainbows

Less tasteful further up, but


© Rachel Green 2016

What? How dare influenza assault me!

© Rachel Green 2016

Thursday, 8 December 2016

short forms 8th December 2016

old girl
all grown up now
still remembers the taunts
and suicidal tendencies
of youth


© Rachel Green 2016

sodden leaves
clinging to the silver birch
a blue tit


© Rachel Green 2016

late night radio
I am captivated by two songs
driving home from jiu-jitsu
Laura Marling and
Rag'n'bone man


© Rachel Green 2016

poetry
a bad year for me
only 162 poems

(not counting the short forms
and the twittered gendai
posted daily)

Still, enough for a collection


© Rachel Green 2016

A rite of passage. Sucking dick.

© Rachel Green 2016

Wednesday, 7 December 2016

short forms 7th December 2016

older
Chloe returns
meets up with her old flame
the cannabis dealer from school.
Deadhead.


© Rachel Green 2016

last red apple
at the very top of the tree
a magpie


© Rachel Green 2016

errant girl
returns to her heroin
suicidal
everything in her life
reduced to ashes


© Rachel Green 2016

writing
for pleasure and profit
doesn't mean novels

the only money
is in producing copy
for advertising brands

love your work, darling


© Rachel Green 2016

reading literary greats. She tries harder.

© Rachel Green 2016

Tuesday, 6 December 2016

short forms 6th December 2016

grown up
Laverstone bound
her father's wedding gift
on the back seat of the prius
Shotgun


© Rachel Green 2016

night fog
the stillness of the air
muted voices


© Rachel Green 2016

memories
driving home to Wolverhampton
in the early hours
the fog so heavy
my head out the window


© Rachel Green 2016

morning hunger
I double my breakfast
calorie guilt

not just a banana
but a conference pear
gleefully consumed

fat bastard, me


© Rachel Green 2016

over her belt. rolls of fat

© Rachel Green 2016

Monday, 5 December 2016

short forms 5th December 2016

Dad's death
unexpected
technicolour glory
the spire of his latest building
piercing


© Rachel Green 2016

yellow leaves
hanging from the silver birch
frozen hearts


© Rachel Green 2016

garden clearing
my hands ripped to pieces
by roses
ancient honeysuckle
pulled up and burned


© Rachel Green 2016

annual card
cut with stencils
painted prototype

the seal of DK's approval
a cheesy, christmassy image
suitable for family

I still prefer the Baphomet design


© Rachel Green 2016

Windowsill. strips of wallpaper. Flocking cat.

© Rachel Green 2016

Sunday, 4 December 2016

short forms 4th December 2016

pictures
of funerals
she collects mementos
of the people she watched buried
Smile, please


© Rachel Green 2016

pink-tinged clouds
above the layer of frost
rosemary flowers


© Rachel Green 2016

clearing up
so much stuff in the loft
(mostly mine)
martial arts gear and
art supplies


© Rachel Green 2016

despair
at ever becoming
a good writer

her heroes are so much better
she wonders what's the point
of even trying?

One more novel?


© Rachel Green 2016

her heroes are all long dead

© Rachel Green 2016

Saturday, 3 December 2016

short forms 3rd December 2016

starting
in the middle
the death of her brother
from her selfishness over her
mum's change


© Rachel Green 2016

radial wires
from a telegraph pole
seven solitary sparrows


© Rachel Green 2016

endless emails
from a woman who wants to buy
my old mandolin
The day she's due to buy it
"Sorry, found another one"


© Rachel Green 2016

literary fiction
makes me wish
I was a better writer

The Chloe book
will get another rewrite
a more serious note

"try to be more descriptive, bitch"


© Rachel Green 2016

She tries to be better. Fails.

© Rachel Green 2016

Short Forms 2nd December 2016

novel
ends in collapse
I don't want to write it
I'd rather write literary
stories


© Rachel Green 2016

grey morning
a crow checks a chip wrapper
a knot of sparrows


© Rachel Green 2016

number 2A bus
trundles past the house
misted windows
at the bus stop opposite
a truanting child


© Rachel Green 2016

unpublished
my better novels
modern issues

a post Brexit world
where a woman is persecuted
for her tiny penis

No funding for transfolk


© Rachel Green 2016

Watery blue eyes. She looks old.

© Rachel Green 2016

Short Forms 1st December 2016

her dad
has a secret
he can't tell anyone
not even his daughter, the fruit
of love



© Rachel Green 2016


silvered
beautiful frost-bitten clouds
obscured by rain



© Rachel Green 2016

Larry
transpecies boi
mounted on the toilet wall
s/he still holds hir doll
for intimate inspection



© Rachel Green 2016


wanted
new plot twist for Chloe
There's something at the back of my mind
tickling, tickling
her parents were siblings
immigration fraud
Incest



© Rachel Green 2016


my terror over hurting someone else


© Rachel Green 2016