30th November 2018

Wind calming down
allowing some sunshine
leafless birch

© Rachel Green 2018

training session
the kettlebell is too heavy
backache

© Rachel Green 2018

29th December 2018

 blustery wind
with a level two gale warning
No deal Brexit?

© Rachel Green 2018

phone call from police
to pursue the minor hate crime
I received on Monday.
I thought I was okay
but a night of bad dreams
would suggest otherwise.
I need downtime

© Rachel Green 2018

28th November 2018

five magpies
glean seeds from barren tracks
cold dog

© Rachel Green 2018

witness
to a vehicle collision
where an angry man
browbeats a older lady
I step in to defend her
whereupon he turns on me
transphobic slurs
and empty threats

© Rachel Green 2018

27th November 2018

cold and blustery
at least the bins aren't toppling
damp joggers

© Rachel Green 2018

stuff moved about
a cornucopia of Christmas gifts
now in the spare room
on the home front
the manipulative boy
sends insincere apologies
but changes nothing
under my desk,
Ash's dog warms my feet.

© Rachel Green 2018

26th November 2018

low sun
brightening the day
birch-bark gutter boats

© Rachel Green 2018

minor chaos
the boxes of potential gifts
filling the study
The room is claustrophobic
I must be evolving
from my needy youth
just give me space

© Rachel Green 2018

25th November 2018

dreary day
even the trees weep
tears of yellow

© Rachel Green 2018

Wolverhampton dream
walking through the town
hearing banghra music
and flirting with WPCs

When I wake
I realise I miss the Indian community
since moving north.
Derbyshire is beautiful
but less than multicultural

© Rachel Green 2018

24th November 2018

cemetery poplars
clothed only in sparrows
crow taking flight

© Rachel Green 2018

dreary day
even the BBC agrees
Brexit chaos
as Spain wants Gibraltar back 
and Mrs May refuses to deal.
Even the pro-Brexit people
admitted they lied about the benefits of leaving
but "no second referendum" allowed.
Whatever happened
to the Trades Descriptions Acts?
 
© Rachel Green 2018

23rd October 2018

yellowing birch
shedding its tiny hearts
lonely thrush

© Rachel Green 2018

dreary morning
another gym session missed.
Thanks, toothache

© Rachel Green 2018

22nd November 2018

freezing rain
the evening mist settling
on streets and lungs

© Rachel Green 2018

don't even
the gaping holes in my skull
filling with debris

© Rachel Green 2018

21st November 2018

Barbarra £160

grey sky
at least the rain has stopped
wet leaves

© Rachel Green 2018

pain, pain, go away
don't come back
ya' bastard

© Rachel Green 2018

20th November 2018

lashing rain
the green bin full of fallen leaves
late fireworks

© Rachel Green 2018

Too cold
My mouth still aches
infected gums

© Rachel Green 2018

19th November 2018

silver birch
a yellow lollipop
heart leaves

© Rachel Green 2018

the cat
ever hungry
declines to eat

© Rachel Green 2018

18th November 2018

raking leaves
under an unshiny sky
rotting apples

© Rachel Green 2018

gaping hole
packed with cloves;
a natural antibiotic
theoretically it will ease the ache
of a 'dry socket'
just give me painkillers
and end my torment

© Rachel Green 2018

17th November 2018

morning damp
among the bare branches
magpies and crows argue

© Rachel Green 2018

dear dog
the toothache is excruciating.
Almost no sleep
then up at six
because doing shit takes my mind
off the pain for a while
Now I'm waiting
for 9AM
to phone the emergency dentist
and beg for some help
something is wrong, surely?
Even the cat is crying.

© Rachel Green 2018

16th November 2018

bloody Christmas lights
getting earlier every year.
festive cards in the post

© Rachel Green 2018

and we wonder
why there's no respect amymoew.
I pick up litter from the garden
dropped by an endless parade of kids
going to and from school.
I'd have never done that as a kid.
Catholic upbringing.
I still carry the scars.

© Rachel Green 2018

15th November 2018

children's shadows
as they cross the path of a low sun
inland gulls

© Rachel Green 2018

dental work
two teeth extracted
and another filled
I am beset with pain
and look for a lie-in.
Alas, the dog can tell the time
wakes me a 7:30
maybe I'll nap later
© Rachel Green 2018

14th Novembwe 2018

early sun
fades to wind and rain
bicycle journey

© Rachel Green 2018

random slideshow
shows images of the past fifteen years
people I don't recognise;
dogs I still miss,
places I pine for.
And all those selfies
one a day as I age
falling into obscurity

© Rachel Green 2018

13th November 2018

late schoolboy
pretends he's an astronaut
propelled by wind

© Rachel Green 2018

mending an air bed
proves to be several hours
of fruitless work
I find the hole
but the patch doesn't work
the whole process is
deflating

© Rachel Green 2018

12th November 2018

solitary sparrow
on the overhead telephone wires
a pair of sneakers

© Rachel Green 2018

Thanks, Flickr,
that was my weekend destroyed
by cataloguing and downloading photos
Eighteen thousand
now transferred to Google
because you want more money
than advertising gets you.
So feel free to delete my content
I've stopped telling my friends
bow much I like you.

© Rachel Green 2018

11th November 2018

rain drips
from the yellowing leaves
crow calls

© Rachel Green 2018

Saturday night
reduced lighting at the gym
no staff in evidence
One of the toilets is blocked
and some bloke is misusing the weights
Most people just get on with their exercise
while I walk, walk
getting in my five K a day
in an effort to rid myself of the stomach
then ruin the whole idea
by eating bread for dinner.

© Rachel Green 2018

10th November 2018

freezing rain
battling the window panes
flowering rosemary

© Rachel Green 2018

weird dreams
old friends I haven't seen in forty years
acting like idiots
Edwin is older than me
(if he's still alive)
and behaving like a twenty year old
while an old girlfriend
has become a pro domme
(and a real turn-off)
Am I about to die?
What are these people turning up
when I don't even recall their names?

© Rachel Green 2018

9th November 2018

schoolboy misery
under the overcast sky
yellowed peony stalks

© Rachel Green 2018

Too much Giger
in my art folder
show how I loved him, once.
Now I crave the sky mirrors
of Anish Kapoor
and the brutalist figures
of dear Giacommetti

© Rachel Green 2018

8th November 2018

unshiny
at least the rain has passed
sodden piles of leaves

© Rachel Green 2018

theatre
the best lift for a mood
excellent play
delightful companion
the late night leaves me lethargic
lazy morning

© Rachel Green 2018

7th November 2018

schoolgirls
ruffled by wind and rain
chimneypot magpie

© Rachel Green 2018

wishes
can be addictive
told to clean his room
an eleven year old in Arizona
shoots his grandmother
in the back of the head
then turns the gun on himself.
In what nightmare
does more guns equal safety?
Meanwhile in London
six fatal stabbings in seven days
is hardly cause for celebration.
We voted to leave Europe
can we vote to Leave America?

© Rachel Green 2018

6th November 2018

deep mist
hidden in the treetops
vocal crow

© Rachel Green 2018

double standards
when a much-vaunted men's group
rejects polyamorous brother
because he's open about his partners.
You can't be honest about that
it's not the One True Way.
You should keep all you affairs secret
and grab 'em by the pussy
apparently.

© Rachel Green 2018

5th November 2018

misty morning
the scent of gunpowder
on the quiet air

© Rachel Green 2018

cowering dogs
as fireworks go off
around the neighbourhood.
Why is this still legal?
Controlled explosions
should be the prerogative
of the armed forces
not any kid on the street
and yes,
I was just as bad in my youth
weighted bangers
and glider rockets
Home made cannons
almost killing my dad.

© Rachel Green 2018

4th November 2018

cold wind
sweeping the rain across
winter bonfire

© Rachel Green 2018

how to write poems
when I do nothing all day
(exercise, walk the dogs)
just sit in my chair
and fall asleep

© Rachel Green 2018

3rd November 2018

crescent moon
flying high in the morning sky
dead sycamore leaves

© Rachel Green 2018

Maybe I'll start a society
proclaiming the moon is flat
and posted  in the sky
by minions of NASA
a secret society
generations old
who used tall ladders
to hang the daily crescent
from the raised-up bits
of a flat earth.
The population of  Earth
seems to become dumber
the more technology advances.
I'd probably get Religion status
and tax exemptions
and funding grants to prove it.

© Rachel Green 2018

2nd November 2018

sparrows
frost laden rose blooms
decay

© Rachel Green 2018

morning oats
I abandon intermittent fasting
on advice from health instructor
"active metabolism"
still,
I have another forty pounds to lose
a whole leg's worth
so theoretically
I'll be an ideal weight
this time next year
if I keep it up.

© Rachel Green 2018

1st November 2018

late yellow poppies
in the morning rain
collapsing pumpkins

© Rachel Green 2018

five kilos of chocolate
gone in an hour
but the neibourhood kids are happy.
No pound store sweets here
just branded bars and bags
and a horde of discarded wrappers
on the front garden

© Rachel Green 2018