sunshine
burns away the night frost
dead nasturtiums
© Rachel Green 2018
I'll attempt to write
I have one more book in me
that needs to be told
the tale of Chloe
i've been on-again, off-again
for four years, now.
She needs as much closure
as my broken life
and rotting teeth
© Rachel Green 2018
Wednesday 31 October 2018
Tuesday 30 October 2018
30th October 2018
Monday 29 October 2018
29th October 2018
a dusting of frost
golden light of a low sun
solitary sparrow
© Rachel Green 2018
morning
I'm in the bathroom
getting ready for school
(I'm late, as usual)
then realise it's only five a.m.
and besides,
I left school forty years ago
and I've changed my name
and gender since then.
Their records will be wrong
so no demerits for me.
© Rachel Green 2018
golden light of a low sun
solitary sparrow
© Rachel Green 2018
morning
I'm in the bathroom
getting ready for school
(I'm late, as usual)
then realise it's only five a.m.
and besides,
I left school forty years ago
and I've changed my name
and gender since then.
Their records will be wrong
so no demerits for me.
© Rachel Green 2018
Sunday 28 October 2018
28th October 2018
blustery day
on my shattered teeth
cold wind
© Rachel Green 2018
morning trip
to the radio station
DK being interviewed.
My erudite Old Man
live on Radio Sheffield
speaking about Samhain
while Lu and I
drink complimentary tea
in the waiting area/
© Rachel Green 2018
Radio Sheffield (DK on at 1:39:00)
on my shattered teeth
cold wind
© Rachel Green 2018
morning trip
to the radio station
DK being interviewed.
My erudite Old Man
live on Radio Sheffield
speaking about Samhain
while Lu and I
drink complimentary tea
in the waiting area/
© Rachel Green 2018
Radio Sheffield (DK on at 1:39:00)
Saturday 27 October 2018
27th October 2018
overcast
deep drifts of leaf litter
sweet wrappers
© Rachel Green 2018
toothache
emergency appointment
with understanding dentist
x-ray reveals infections
and the demise of three teeth
I'm going to be toothless
for my remaining years.
Here's to a life
of oatmeal and soup.
and the weightloss
of easy digestion
© Rachel Green 2018
deep drifts of leaf litter
sweet wrappers
© Rachel Green 2018
toothache
emergency appointment
with understanding dentist
x-ray reveals infections
and the demise of three teeth
I'm going to be toothless
for my remaining years.
Here's to a life
of oatmeal and soup.
and the weightloss
of easy digestion
© Rachel Green 2018
Friday 26 October 2018
26th October 2018
night rain
leaves a damp morning
cold sky
© Rachel Green 2018
toothache
dear dog! I can't sleep
despite whisky and codeine
terrible dreams
My own fault.
I've not been to the dentist in years.
Foolish.
© Rachel Green 2018
leaves a damp morning
cold sky
© Rachel Green 2018
toothache
dear dog! I can't sleep
despite whisky and codeine
terrible dreams
My own fault.
I've not been to the dentist in years.
Foolish.
© Rachel Green 2018
Thursday 25 October 2018
25th October 2018
sunlit chimneys
trees noticeably barer
central heating
© Rachel Green 2018
Honestly?
I could do with a day off
gym seems too much today
but I always feel better afterwards.
So I should.
Better than being obese, surely?
© Rachel Green 2018
trees noticeably barer
central heating
© Rachel Green 2018
Honestly?
I could do with a day off
gym seems too much today
but I always feel better afterwards.
So I should.
Better than being obese, surely?
© Rachel Green 2018
Tuesday 23 October 2018
23rd October 2018
Monday 22 October 2018
22nd October 2018
gulls
crossing a blue sky
southbound geese
© Rachel Green 2018
aching body
and a few nightmares
leave me breathless
© Rachel Green 2018
crossing a blue sky
southbound geese
© Rachel Green 2018
aching body
and a few nightmares
leave me breathless
© Rachel Green 2018
Sunday 21 October 2018
21st October 2018
chill morning
over the heating ducts
patches of blue sky
© Rachel Green 2018
did I really sign up
to do a 21K run
apparently.
There's a tee shirt with my name on
and a number
and of course I have nightmares
about a canal boat.
© Rachel Green 2018
over the heating ducts
patches of blue sky
© Rachel Green 2018
did I really sign up
to do a 21K run
apparently.
There's a tee shirt with my name on
and a number
and of course I have nightmares
about a canal boat.
© Rachel Green 2018
Saturday 20 October 2018
20th October 2018
unshiny again
morning dew lingers
dry stalks rattle
© Rachel Green 2018
anxiety dreams
the hotel where I can't find my room
populated by people from my past
Am I dying?
© Rachel Green 2018
morning dew lingers
dry stalks rattle
© Rachel Green 2018
anxiety dreams
the hotel where I can't find my room
populated by people from my past
Am I dying?
© Rachel Green 2018
Friday 19 October 2018
19th October 2018
unshiny
patches of blue showing
cold wind
© Rachel Green 2018
nightmare-free
that makes a nice change
low sugar diet?
Perhaps the mad pills
are finally working
© Rachel Green 2018
patches of blue showing
cold wind
© Rachel Green 2018
nightmare-free
that makes a nice change
low sugar diet?
Perhaps the mad pills
are finally working
© Rachel Green 2018
Thursday 18 October 2018
18th October 2018
Wednesday 17 October 2018
17th October 2018
fungi and cordite
on the morning air
early fireworks
© Rachel Green 2018
dismay
at the obesity class
fat and sugar
if one is low
the chances are the other is high.
Every banana
has seven teaspoons of sugar
no wonder I'm fat.
© Rachel Green 2018
on the morning air
early fireworks
© Rachel Green 2018
dismay
at the obesity class
fat and sugar
if one is low
the chances are the other is high.
Every banana
has seven teaspoons of sugar
no wonder I'm fat.
© Rachel Green 2018
Tuesday 16 October 2018
16th October 2018
crow calls
among
the bare branches
a fresh red rose
© Rachel Green 2018
overslept
the phone alarm turned off
while I return to the dreamtime
Where is my father
whom I saw a moment ago
despair etched into his eyes
in the last days.
The dogs he loved
long gone
his wife,
his son
all gone
© Rachel Green 2018
among
the bare branches
a fresh red rose
© Rachel Green 2018
overslept
the phone alarm turned off
while I return to the dreamtime
Where is my father
whom I saw a moment ago
despair etched into his eyes
in the last days.
The dogs he loved
long gone
his wife,
his son
all gone
© Rachel Green 2018
Monday 15 October 2018
15th October 2018
more rain
windfall apples on the lawn
rot into mush
© Rachel Green 2018
pushing myself
on the gym treadmill
twenty one kilometers
If I fail my half marathon
it won't be for lack of fitness
or determination.
New problems aris
a muscle in each leg
and the tops of my feet.
At least I avoided the chafing,
thanks to Vaseline.
© Rachel Green 2018
windfall apples on the lawn
rot into mush
© Rachel Green 2018
pushing myself
on the gym treadmill
twenty one kilometers
If I fail my half marathon
it won't be for lack of fitness
or determination.
New problems aris
a muscle in each leg
and the tops of my feet.
At least I avoided the chafing,
thanks to Vaseline.
© Rachel Green 2018
Sunday 14 October 2018
14th October 2018
morning rain
wisteria leaves turning yellow
the shed emerges
© Rachel Green 2018
disheartening
trying to play co-op on ESO
and the boys are just rude
and then kick me
I lose heart in the game again
probably a good thing
© Rachel Green 2018
wisteria leaves turning yellow
the shed emerges
© Rachel Green 2018
disheartening
trying to play co-op on ESO
and the boys are just rude
and then kick me
I lose heart in the game again
probably a good thing
© Rachel Green 2018
Saturday 13 October 2018
13th October 2018
silver birch
bent sideways by wind
yellowing leaves
© Rachel Green 2018
a used condom
in the wooded path
between two Chesterfield streets
leaves me wondering.
What of the poor recipient?
was she (or he) happy
to be taken in the wild
her back (his chest)
pressed up against the rough bark of a sycamore,
surrounded by dog shit,
fast food packaging
and rusting beer cans?
Was it their first time?
Their last?
A teenager, maybe,
or a frustrated wife
desperate for just a moment of being wanted?
There should be somewhere to go
for those desperate souls;
somewhere warm and comfortable
that doesn't reek of shit;
where the crunching underfoot
isn't old heroin needles.
© Rachel Green 2018
bent sideways by wind
yellowing leaves
© Rachel Green 2018
a used condom
in the wooded path
between two Chesterfield streets
leaves me wondering.
What of the poor recipient?
was she (or he) happy
to be taken in the wild
her back (his chest)
pressed up against the rough bark of a sycamore,
surrounded by dog shit,
fast food packaging
and rusting beer cans?
Was it their first time?
Their last?
A teenager, maybe,
or a frustrated wife
desperate for just a moment of being wanted?
There should be somewhere to go
for those desperate souls;
somewhere warm and comfortable
that doesn't reek of shit;
where the crunching underfoot
isn't old heroin needles.
© Rachel Green 2018
Friday 12 October 2018
12th October 2018
blustery day
sometimes walking the dogs
can be a drag
© Rachel Green 2018
old girlfriend
appears in my dreamtime
did she die too?
She looks how I remember her
she was still a teenager
but honestly?
I'm glad she's gone
© Rachel Green 2018
sometimes walking the dogs
can be a drag
© Rachel Green 2018
old girlfriend
appears in my dreamtime
did she die too?
She looks how I remember her
she was still a teenager
but honestly?
I'm glad she's gone
© Rachel Green 2018
Thursday 11 October 2018
11th October 2018
deep mist
dissipates October streetlights
the cat, crying
© Rachel Green 2018
old friend
appears in multiple dreams
but why?
He never spoke to me again
after I transitioned
to my sorrow.
Maybe he's just died--
he was an alcoholic at twenty
did I ever know him at all?
He gave up art.
Farewell, Simon
© Rachel Green 2018
dissipates October streetlights
the cat, crying
© Rachel Green 2018
old friend
appears in multiple dreams
but why?
He never spoke to me again
after I transitioned
to my sorrow.
Maybe he's just died--
he was an alcoholic at twenty
did I ever know him at all?
He gave up art.
Farewell, Simon
© Rachel Green 2018
Wednesday 10 October 2018
10th October 2018
hidden sunshine
the wall opposite like a Rothko
wet leaves
© Rachel Green 2018
what's the deal
with the crazy lady
filling our wheelie bins?
I wouldn't mind
but she waited until they were emptied
and filled them with her crap.
I wouldn't mind so much
if she hadn't put plastics in the garden waste
and cardboard in the landfill.
© Rachel Green 2018
the wall opposite like a Rothko
wet leaves
© Rachel Green 2018
what's the deal
with the crazy lady
filling our wheelie bins?
I wouldn't mind
but she waited until they were emptied
and filled them with her crap.
I wouldn't mind so much
if she hadn't put plastics in the garden waste
and cardboard in the landfill.
© Rachel Green 2018
Tuesday 9 October 2018
9th October 2018
Monday 8 October 2018
8th October 2018
Jack, found |
the dog shedding its fur
central heating
© Rachel Green 2018
old fruit trees
my father cared for
dead and broken
barkless branches lie like bones
on the unmown meadow.
Still the plum tree holds a living branch
among the cascade of lifeless tangle
a single Victoria
sweet and leathery
and the egg plum
bitter and tasteless
next to the skeleton of the damson
I loved as a child
© Rachel Green 2018
Sunday 7 October 2018
7th October 2018
weak sun
highlighting the wet grass
urinating dog
© Rachel Green 2018
birthday party
for the newly-twenty one
family and loud music.
In one corner I drink tea
and read about the pub's restaurant
where they serve funeral teas
at eight pounds fifty per person
includes sandwiches and hot chips
and cheese quiche
while you watch pictures of the departed
scroll past on the plasma TV screens.
Toast the departed
with salmon and cucumber sarnies
and a shot of single malt
then stay
for a sing song.
© Rachel Green 2018
highlighting the wet grass
urinating dog
© Rachel Green 2018
birthday party
for the newly-twenty one
family and loud music.
In one corner I drink tea
and read about the pub's restaurant
where they serve funeral teas
at eight pounds fifty per person
includes sandwiches and hot chips
and cheese quiche
while you watch pictures of the departed
scroll past on the plasma TV screens.
Toast the departed
with salmon and cucumber sarnies
and a shot of single malt
then stay
for a sing song.
© Rachel Green 2018
Saturday 6 October 2018
6th October 2018
Friday 5 October 2018
5th October 2018
bright red creeper
festoons the garden shed
hungry thrushes
© Rachel Green 2018
The cat's gone deaf.
She's seventeen
so it's not unexpected
but it explains a lot,
like why she doesn't come when called
and why my dinner song goes unloved
and why she's such a little b*tch
to the poor dogs.
© Rachel Green 2018
festoons the garden shed
hungry thrushes
© Rachel Green 2018
The cat's gone deaf.
She's seventeen
so it's not unexpected
but it explains a lot,
like why she doesn't come when called
and why my dinner song goes unloved
and why she's such a little b*tch
to the poor dogs.
© Rachel Green 2018
Thursday 4 October 2018
4th October 2018
Wednesday 3 October 2018
3rd October 2018
sour faced teenagers
tramping through leaves
exuberant dog
© Rachel Green 2018
shopping
and meds collection
all on a pushbike
maybe I can fit everything
into my little rucksack
© Rachel Green 2018
tramping through leaves
exuberant dog
© Rachel Green 2018
shopping
and meds collection
all on a pushbike
maybe I can fit everything
into my little rucksack
© Rachel Green 2018
Tuesday 2 October 2018
2nd October 2018
Monday 1 October 2018
1st October 2018
gold-limned branches
the girl in the house opposite
naked in the window
© Rachel Green 2018
a rucksack
full of lego pieces
borrowed from a friend
I haven't seen in forty years
is stolen off my back
by a very clever thief.
What the hell do I do?
I didn't even notice it go
so there's no chance of recovery.
What does Lego mean
when it's a dream I'm having?
Am I mourning my lost youth?
I should have been more forthright.
I was a woman long before
I'd even heard of surgery.
© Rachel Green 2018
the girl in the house opposite
naked in the window
© Rachel Green 2018
a rucksack
full of lego pieces
borrowed from a friend
I haven't seen in forty years
is stolen off my back
by a very clever thief.
What the hell do I do?
I didn't even notice it go
so there's no chance of recovery.
What does Lego mean
when it's a dream I'm having?
Am I mourning my lost youth?
I should have been more forthright.
I was a woman long before
I'd even heard of surgery.
© Rachel Green 2018
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