Tuesday, 28 February 2017

short forms 28th February 2017

zombies
raiding the shops
filling up on butter
and out-of-date bacon packets.
old boys


© Rachel Green 2017

against my eyelids
particles of sunshine
explode of primulas


© Rachel Green 2017

shrove Tuesday
a feast for religious nuts
to eat dairy
how many people will abstain
for the next six weeks?


© Rachel Green 2017

facebook
a wave of comments
competing transboys

have to admit
there are some bigots on there
why are they following me?

do they not know who I am?


© Rachel Green 2017

gym  trainer slips. Calls me 'he'

© Rachel Green 2017

Monday, 27 February 2017

poetry 2017 / 032

Unrequited

Peter Dashey used to chase me home
threatening me with beatings
for being a sissy
a poofter
a ginger.
I was ten or eleven
afraid to tell my parents
who would tell me to stand up for myself
or I'd be a big girl's blouse.

Every day a different route
the streamers on my handlebars flying
with the desire to keep me safe,
the half-mile home
stretching into two, five,
as I sought longer routes
where he wouldn't be waiting
on one corner or another,
fists ready to pound his hatred
into something he saw as weak.

His brothers were the same,
sporting bruises from their father,
walking to school with his discarded beers
but only Peter had to work his issues
on the freckled canvas of my face.

Poor Peter
swept into the recesses of memory
with the bike shelter cigarettes
and cricket stand Bjs

short forms 27th February 2017

morning
the dead awaken
reluctant for college
they'd rather eat pizza and play
consoles


© Rachel Green 2017

morning blue
washed away with dirty rag
a frenzy of swifts


© Rachel Green 2017

private prisons
returned by Cheeto Pres
tax dollars for buddies
It becomes profitable
to punish infractions


© Rachel Green 2017

pick rucksack
carried by yawning girl
schoolward bound

her walk carefully timed
to avoid playground bullies
and locker-room taunts

snail paced


© Rachel Green 2017

weight loss. One stomach fades away

© Rachel Green 2017

Sunday, 26 February 2017

short forms 26th February 2017

pulling things
from points of view
into one person's perspective
seems like too much work to process.
Old tales


© Rachel Green 2017

blue sky
vapour trails dissipate
sparrow song


© Rachel Green 2017

odd thought
I need to learn welding
for garden sculpture
Tossing metal about
would help the biceps


© Rachel Green 2017

endless jiu-jitsu vids
are being slowly replaced
by work-out routines

starting to get the feel
of basic muscle groups
and exercises for them

will I ever get fit?


© Rachel Green 2017

oatmeal. Her new favourite go-to.

© Rachel Green 2017

Saturday, 25 February 2017

short forms 25th February 2017

her purse
returned to her
before she was aware
she'd dropped it. Was she a victim
of theft?


© Rachel Green 2017

dreary morning
two girls pass the house
pyjamas and parkas


© Rachel Green 2017

work to do
dog walking, training
and feeding cats
if only she wasn't do tired
she'd be enthused


© Rachel Green 2017

evening class
jiu-jitsu fundamentals
Amassa Pão choke

I train with a boy
forty years my junior
and he's a natural

(also train the defence)


© Rachel Green 2017

Oatmeal breakfast. Her under-eye shadows.

© Rachel Green 2017

Friday, 24 February 2017

poetry 2017 / 031

Apology

It's time to say I'm sorry
for all the things I did
when I was avaricious, proud or angry;
The time I punched John Emerson in the liver
for calling me... whatever it was...
for pulling Sally's Cooper's hair
because she stopped being my friend;
for writing grafitti on the school bus
and sawing through the table in home room.
For writing lurid teenage sex stories
starring the current recipient of my lust.
The time I stole porn mags from John Menzies
and sold them to the boys at school.
For stealing my father's cigarettes,
a bottle of whisky from the pantry,
and chocolate from my mother's shop.
The night I kicked a bloke in the neck
for beating up my bff
and the harsh words over Messenger
when Vicky finally dumped me
because she was straight after all.
Now I'm sorry for my complacency;
my peace with the world
and my lack of ambition;
but most of all to myself
for the abuses of my body
and the extra hundred pounds of weight.

short forms 24th February 2017

one view
one character
interacting with the
assembled regulars: werewolves
and vamps


© Rachel Green 2017

sunshine
after the hurricane
street litter


© Rachel Green 2017

hot oatmeal
a promise to my muscles
leg day
but first tasks first:
walk dogs, feed cats


© Rachel Green 2017

no interest
in printer for sale
i drop the price

brand new A3 printer
with full wifi features
only sixty quid

huge doorstop


© Rachel Green 2017

aching muscles. She can't see improvement.

© Rachel Green 2017

Thursday, 23 February 2017

short forms 23rd February 2017

rewrite
two points of vies
from Yana and Penny
one religious assassin, one
a ghost


© Rachel Green 2017

horizontal rain
a visit from Boris
our bin full of roof


© Rachel Green 2017

kickboxing classes
at my local gym
tempted to sign up
maybe a class a week
would help my technique


© Rachel Green 2017

time management
failing to apply priorities
over internet usage

cat feeding
dog walking
jiu-jitsu at eleven

no, Bored Panda, no


© Rachel Green 2017

increased weight leads to depression. Meh.

© Rachel Green 2017

Wednesday, 22 February 2017

short forms 22nd February 2017



dead girls
I remove the
other world portal stuff
and make Valerie become Aunt
Yana


© Rachel Green 2017

high winds
our carport roof
visits the neighbours


© Rachel Green 2017

oatmeal
on a cold morning
delicious
I should have stuck to one banana
because now I feel sleepy


© Rachel Green 2017

cat duties
even the ginger Angel
accepts my hand

Willow remains friendly
but gobbles her food
and asks for more

pet sitting


© Rachel Green 2017

The distractions of depression. Cold tea.

© Rachel Green 2017

Tuesday, 21 February 2017

short forms 21st February 2017

a change
linking the past
with present-day townies.
Valerie the ex-assassin
as mum


© Rachel Green 2017

morning light
a pink glow in the east
yellow crocus


© Rachel Green 2017

dammit
missed the autostraddle call
for lesbian bedrooms
I thought they'd like ours
monochrome polyamory


© Rachel Green 2017

cinema night
double feature
John Wick and Grey sequels

John Wick is preferable
jiu-jitsu combined with guns
Grey's soft porn

one hard muscle


© Rachel Green 2017

Eating shit. Nachos at the cinema

© Rachel Green 2017

Monday, 20 February 2017

short forms 20th February 2017

project
back to writing
edit and change old book
into a story I'm pleased with.
Dead Girls


© Rachel Green 2017
gulls
over the carpark
discarded chips


© Rachel Green 2017

insensitive
I eat the last croissant
(it was Lina's)
They say it's okay
but it clearly isn't.


© Rachel Green 2017

brief glimpse
solitary passenger
on the 2A to Walton

blonde, thirties,
a lesbian plaid shirt
staring at her phone

a life worth living?


© Rachel Green 2017

Every mirror reveals her inner ugliness

© Rachel Green 2017

Sunday, 19 February 2017

short forms 19th February 2017

a blade
slides into flesh
and actually feels
more satisfying than she thought.
World views


© Rachel Green 2017

grey sky
the skeletons of last year's annuals


© Rachel Green 2017

last year
I bought a "solar rock light"
for the garden
Now a mess of dissolved resin
and basic electronics


© Rachel Green 2017

several hours
setting up and reviewing
a new photocopier

letter printing is perfect
photo printing less so
dull colours

I'll stick to online prints


© Rachel Green 2017

crushed by students. ju-jutsu depression

© Rachel Green 2017

Saturday, 18 February 2017

short forms 18th February 2017

she learns
to ignore them
the taunts and jeers of
the well-meaning sympathisers.
Just leave


© Rachel Green 2017

polyanthus
splashes of yellow in the garden
discarded candy wrappers


© Rachel Green 2017

rear collar choke
demonstrated to class
my jaw clicks
Still, "Look at your watch"
is becoming archaic


© Rachel Green 2017

odd dream
working in a men's prison
as a policewoman

toleration
of the jeers and catcalls
of stinking offenders

bathroom horror


© Rachel Green 2017

asked to run for charity. Me?

© Rachel Green 2017

Friday, 17 February 2017

poetry 2017 / 030

Acoustic Clog

Penny played the banjo
finger-picking a five string
in the Appalachian style.
She never looked at it –
always away, away –
the loose flap of skin beneath her jowls
flapping with the motion of her arm,
her jaw clenched with the effort
of remembering the tune in her head.
She was pretty good at it;
instilled a love in me
of that hillbilly shit-kicking style
though her friends were less desirable
in their button-down plaid
and their beer-swilling southern drawls
(we're talking Dorset here).

I'd buy another banjo in a heartbeat
but it would probably remind me of the heartbreak
and the almost-broken jaw.

short forms 17th February 2017

transman
and a lesbian
talking about smoking
and imbibing amphetamines
banned book?


© Rachel Green 2017

grey morning
the endless run of cars
dashing past the house


© Rachel Green 2017

early gym
I nominate the day
biceps and back
It's only been two weeks
but muscle definition increases


© Rachel Green 2017

meeting a bloke
as preparation
for an artist event

We arrange a cafe date
for a fortnight's time
poetry and art

he seems keen on inclusion


© Rachel Green 2017

no non-friends read her novels anyway.

© Rachel Green 2017

Thursday, 16 February 2017

short forms 16th February 2016

her dad
won't accept her
choice of partner despite
a three year relationship with
a girl


© Rachel Green 2017

houses
a row of broken teeth
sunshiney gap


© Rachel Green 2017

health concerns
a valentine's day gift
chocolate cake
by the next morning
covered in mould


© Rachel Green 2017

mayhem
one car in the garage
on in Manchester

my lift to jiu-jitsu cancels
due to illness
I cannot attend

Chris arranges a lift for me


© Rachel Green 2017

Thinner? Or a fun-house mirror trick?

© Rachel Green 2017

Wednesday, 15 February 2017

short forms 15th February 2017

knowledge
three older kids
responsible for death
a hate crime gone unpunished for
lifetimes


© Rachel Green 2017

morning run
pink-edged clouds
promise sunshine


© Rachel Green 2017

a dear friend
does a fabulous thing
for a loved one
His excitement over dinner
at the thought of meeting legends


© Rachel Green 2017

abs day
my weakest muscles
exercised

I can barely move
my body from the horizontal
but the muscles ache

reverse sit-ups


© Rachel Green 2017

morning run. goodbye to the wyfe.

© Rachel Green 2017

Tuesday, 14 February 2017

short forms 14th February 2017

young man
soft-spoken voice
belies the long dreadlocks
and the tribal tattoos on his
biceps


© Rachel Green 2017

sunshine
melting the morning frost
from streetside bins


© Rachel Green 2017

Secretary for education
without qualifications
only donations
DeVos needs an editor
and a history lesson


© Rachel Green 2017

February 14th
a day like any other
except with cards

today is
Random Christian Martyr Day
Hurrah

No cut flowers, please.


© Rachel Green 2017

two pounds lost. She looks fat.

© Rachel Green 2017

Monday, 13 February 2017

short forms 13th February 2017

chsnges
the solitude
of a surviving child
after her brother's funeral.
Eating.


© Rachel Green 2017

single crow
shouts at a pigeon
roadkill


© Rachel Green 2017

7:30 AM
the morning is already light
Mom's taxi
hot oatmeal and a coat
because it's still cold.


© Rachel Green 2017

squeaky door
the careful tread
of a teenager

a tottering pile
dirty cups and plates
full sink

snack time


© Rachel Green 2017

She tries not to eat. Fails.

© Rachel Green 2017

Sunday, 12 February 2017

short forms 12th February 2017

her temp
relief teacher
entertains the students
with "true" stories of the Bible.
Jasfoup


© Rachel Green 2017

snowflakes
whistle past the window
alt.right supporters


© Rachel Green 2017

the terror
of a deported child
New England
Victoria's pink world map
now facisti red


© Rachel Green 2017

idolatry
and devil worship
Costa book of the year

England in the seventies
where the provincial IRA
is backed with dollars

Shankill Road shennanigans


© Rachel Green 2017

New Scarlet Fever cases. Vaccination deniers.

© Rachel Green 2017

Saturday, 11 February 2017

short forms 11th February 2017

her sex-
uality
influenced by her past
her brother's transgender issues
buried


© Rachel Green 2017

snow
over the early bulbs
wind blown plastic


© Rachel Green 2017

discussion about snow
Jiu-jitsu Jim loves it
even as an adult
at least it make Chesterfield
look nice for an hour


© Rachel Green 2017

overslept
the curse of staying up
for a crappy film

worth watching
because it was set in Britain
ex Doctor Who assistant

rubbish acting


© Rachel Green 2017

leg day. She's surprisingly capable. Fitness.

© Rachel Green 2017

Friday, 10 February 2017

short forms 10th February 2017

her crush
from her school days
got married long ago
to the she-bitch bully from her
class year

© Rachel Green 2017

ground snow
melted by sunshine
dog bowl ice


© Rachel Green 2017

sparring
looking for triangle
taking a choke
I am improving
albeit slowly


© Rachel Green 2017

leg day
I am surprised
at the weights

leg press is easy
I can press my own wight
which is a lot

smaller weight and reps, though


© Rachel Green 2017

still fat despite everything. She cries.

© Rachel Green 2017

Thursday, 9 February 2017

short forms 9th February 2017

open
relationship
in theory only.
Jealous partner when she talks to
a boy


© Rachel Green 2017

winter cold
wiping the slush from my eyelids
dandelion leaves


© Rachel Green 2017

old friends
join jiu-jitsu
group class
I fall in love
with a man's dog


© Rachel Green 2017

morning job
taking the car to the garage
dead battery

jump start
then the other car dies
infectious dead spots

journey home


© Rachel Green 2017

new exercise regime. Her eating increases

© Rachel Green 2017

Wednesday, 8 February 2017

short forms 8th February 2017

plot twist
her brother's life
was how he wanted it;
his death more tragic than he wished.
grave stone


© Rachel Green 2017

trays of polyanthus
in the supermarket racks
expensive lettuce


© Rachel Green 2017

morning rain
life goals change
fitness routines
learning about weight training
with the gym owner's mum


© Rachel Green 2017

oatmeal
nutritious and filling
aching triceps

I can't help thinking
that all the muscle building
won't make me thinner

I really need flexibility


© Rachel Green 2017

heavy rucksack. She carries the shopping.

© Rachel Green 2017

Tuesday, 7 February 2017

short forms 7th February 2017

new arc
about her love
for chocolate and her
battle with a drug addiction.
Chloe.


© Rachel Green 2017

snowdrops
scattered across cold winter mud
confetti


© Rachel Green 2017

gym visit
in the early morning
cold rain
...and the car won't start.
Bollocks.


© Rachel Green 2017

jiu-jitsu session
punching fast and accurate
head bobbing

deflecting punches
to head and torso
and keeping base

practice, practice


© Rachel Green 2017

exercising. she's still horribly overweight. Gross.

© Rachel Green 2017

Monday, 6 February 2017

poetry 2017 / 029

Last Kiss

She's going home today,
back to New York City
and its eclectic mix of people,
where they pretty much don't care
about your skin colour,
about your religion,
about your politics.

What matters more
is whether you can smile through adversity
and turn an insult
into something beautiful.

She's going home today,
I just wish it wasn't
in a lead lined casket
with homophobic slurs
carved into her face
and the skin of her arm
mottled by battery acid.

short forms 6th February 2017

he's sure
there's a market
for old televisions.
She can't even give them away.
Landfill.


© Rachel Green 2017

morning frost
the encrusted windows
of a dead car


© Rachel Green 2017

out before breakfast
taking the AA man
a cup of tea
Trickster in the window
won't stop barking.


© Rachel Green 2017

oatmeal
breakfast of champions
on a cold morning

i may still be fat
but daily exercise
gets me fitter

also, treadmill reading


© Rachel Green 2017

her cracked and broken fingernails. diet.

© Rachel Green 2017

Sunday, 5 February 2017

poetry 2017 / 028

Unless You're a Hairdresser

You teach me to defend
but I cannot attack.
My ex punched me in the face
until my cheek ripped against my teeth
but despite the blood
all I did was walk out
and I still cannot hurt someone
without their hands on me.
All my life my beloveds have cheated on me
without my straying once
(it is my nature to be inadequate)
but touch one hair of my daughter's head
and I will end you.

short forms 5th February 2017

dad's house
where rooms are full
of randomised rubbish
who will ever read these papers?
Not her.


© Rachel Green 2017

a brace of pigeons
on the neighbour's roof
a Sainsbury's bag


© Rachel Green 2017

gym time
another five miles
plus some weights
I an thrown out shortly after
early closing Saturday


© Rachel Green 2017

Jiu-jitsu practice
leave me satisfied
but wanting more

all the moves I know
need extra practice
in genuine situations

Maybe I'll walk through Mansfield...


© Rachel Green 2017

All this exercise. She's still fat.

© Rachel Green 2017

Saturday, 4 February 2017

short forms 4th February 2016

forget
the loss of life
what's really hurting her
is being left alone again.
Father


© Rachel Green 2017

old man walking
in the frost-heavy air
rainbows


© Rachel Green 2017

stick figures
growing in number
unsold sculptures
at least they'll burn
when it's time to move house


© Rachel Green 2017

flowing jiu-jitsu
setting up chokes
to teach defences

the best result
becomes confidence
spotting danger

let fear flow past and through


© Rachel Green 2017

Her bruises. Memories of lessons learned.

© Rachel Green 2017

Friday, 3 February 2017

poetry 2017 / 027

A Lump in the Throat

The scent of frankincense
on the early evening air.
Windows are open. The sound of traffic
in the distance lost in the closer drone
of lavender bees and wood pigeons.
You body dusted with sweat, drying in the heat
and leaving tiny circles of salt.
Albinoni on the record player
and a lazy trail of smoke
from the cigarette between your lips.
Still early, but the sun sends shadows
racing across the lawn,
longer and longer until they are taken by the gloaming
and the distant streetlight flickers on.
You rise, and a line of ash rolls from your clavicle
as you speak:
“I have to go home.”
“Home is where the love is,” I reply
and you laugh: “Just not here.”


short forms 3rd February 2017

Alex
a name she loves
but hard to get used to
as is the change in his pronouns
Transman


© Rachel Green 2017

sunshine
gilding the rosemary bush
bits of our roof


© Rachel Green 2017

missive
from a facebook friend
about God
She seems genuinely concerned
about my atheism


© Rachel Green 2017

so many girls
on my friends list
run marathons

Today I managed five miles
quite an achievement
for an old, fat lady

Still, a personal milestone


© Rachel Green 2017

Her love of comics. Now digital.

© Rachel Green 2017

Thursday, 2 February 2017

poetry 2017 / 026

Twixt Vomit and Piss


Women
are just the same as men.
We eat, sleep, shit;
dream a life better for our children.
We work, love, laugh,
raise kids to be responsible adults,
teach them our tolerance, our bigotry
and at the end of the day wash the sweat from our armpits,
the stink of urine from men's hands,
the hours of casual dismissal from our minds.
Tomorrow we will start again.
We will be the workforce,
the wives and mothers,
the lovers, the mistresses,
the dirty little secret,
and we will remember the time
when love was requited.

short forms 2nd Februsar 2017

knowledge
of mum and dad
did they know the future?
Why else name her Hypatia?
New man


© Rachel Green 2017

February
wet and windy
DK's illness


© Rachel Green 2017

Doctor Nute
waves to her clients
over Skype
Does the psychology comfort them
of the image of the cat?


© Rachel Green 2017

morning gym
I don't have time for much
just treadmill

I manage 5Km
then rush home for shower and jiu-jitsu
dogs already walked

standstill traffic


© Rachel Green 2017

Autocorrect replaces 'kitkats' with 'goatskins'. Why?

© Rachel Green 2017

Wednesday, 1 February 2017

poetry 2017 / 025

Turning Cheek

I was asked
why it was so easy for me
to be polite in adversity;
to smile and say 'thank you, sir,'
when the insult hurled
had left me pierced by a hurt
hot as a boiling kettle
when there is no water left for tea.

Live through worse, I said,
cry alone in the darkness
and challenge the boys with sticks
when being Other is despised;
smile at the haters of red-hair
when what they really mean
is I hate myself;

Celebrate diversity,
smile at people on the street
offer charity to those who need it.
Listen to those who differ in opinion
or who have experience you don't.
Wear clothes of both genders
or none at all
and realise that bigots are bigots
because they are afraid of you
and what you represent,
and possess neither experience
or imagination.



short forms 1st February 2017

brother
taught her to steal
from the supermarket
so she takes kitkats for his grave.
Her loss.


© Rachel Green 2017

blue tits
sheltering from the rain
next door's cat


© Rachel Green 2017
old Jack
sleeps the day away
I can has milk?
He likes the idea of a walk
but all his joints hurt today


© Rachel Green 2017

gym time
personal goals expand
fitness returns

watching jiu-jitsu films
the growing family
of other practitioners

belly fat wobbling


© Rachel Green 2017

Loss. The passing of an internet friend.


© Rachel Green 2017

Passing Of Kev From 'Nothing To Do With Arbroath'

I was a daily visitor to  Nothing To Do With Arbroath . Unfortunately Kev passed away on 28th January. He will be missed.



Tributes can be left here