Saturday, 15 June 2019

15th June 2019

unshine
promising more damp weather
toadstool

© Rachel Green 2019

schoolyard terror
the dental van
where even kids in the sticks
can get their teeth checked
amongst the cans of fizzy pop
and Hobo wrappers
(eight for a penny)
The foul taste of gas and air
mixed with the stink of methylated spirits
as I go under.
My mother's hand
as I wake full of pain and terror
with all my teeth gone
and a mouthful of blood and wadding.

© Rachel Green 2019


Friday, 14 June 2019

14th June 2019

sparrows
drinking from the laden guttering
dark skies

© Rachel Green 2019


powering through the dark lanes
the bus' engine makes the floor vibrate
Saturday night.
Last bus home.
A disco in Redditch
and my eternal optimism
to find someone to love.
My hopes dashed again
though at least I got to talk to a girl
so I call that a win.
I hope Dad's in bed
by the time I've walked the mile
from the bus stop in Alvehurch.
Or will I again face the sarcasm
his ever-present humour
at my lonely expense.
I ring the bell
as we pass the now-closed chippy
and stumble forward
as the driver brakes.
The Red Lion is still lit.
Time for a last drink?
I can pass for eighteen.

© Rachel Green 2019

Thursday, 13 June 2019

13th June 2019

sparrows
in a brief respite from rain
white-tailed bumblebees

 © Rachel Green 2019

more rain
Remember the rndless summers
of the seventies?
Walking home from school
in time to buy a Count Dracula lolly
from the ice-cream van on Callow Hill Road;
Mrs Morriss' farm
(now a housing estate)
and the scent of Mum's roses
by the garden gate?
The thrum of Dad's BSA
that sent Shane the dog
running to greet him from work
and the great calico coat he wore
to cut the hawthorn hedge around the orchard.
Baked treats on Fridays
fish and chips
because Mum was Catholic
and picking raspberries
fron the garden.

© Rachel Green 2019

Wednesday, 12 June 2019

12th June 2019

no photographs, please
almost midsummer
and we have the heating on
local river in flood

© Rachel Green 2019

the offspring
composes portmanteaus
accidentally
while on rants about YouTube users
and socaial commenters.
They talk in staccato.
Static Shouts
like an idling chainsaw
that makes the dog bark.
keeping to themselves
they become nocturnal
subsisting on alcohol and ice cream
while heavy curtains
give the upper storey room
a basement air.

© Rachel Green 2019

Tuesday, 11 June 2019

11th June 2019

wet and windy June
autumnal leaves blowing
what climate change?

© Rachel Green 2019

And that all is left
is my love for you
years of liveing, of raising kids;
from you becoming Mom
and changinging to Dad.
The lears, the laughter,
the easy-going smile
and the hug when things got too much.
You laughed at my garden wall
built of old mugs and saucepans,
each a perfect building block of concrete.
All those memories of stone
and in the terror of your future
your old girl in a chicken suit
still dancing to still you smile

© Rachel Green 2019


Monday, 10 June 2019

10th June 2019

 heavy sky
promises a downfall
English summer

 © Rachel Green 2019

birch logs
set aside for a Litha fire
farewell, favourite tree.
What now will mark
the site of my old dog'e grave
so many years of faithful love
now washed away by time.
He holds space in my memory
but soon,
I will be gone
and so will he,
Goodbye, old friend.

© Rachel Green 2019

Sunday, 9 June 2019

9th June 2019

warmth
clouds edge out the sun
aching

© Rachel Green 2019

PM challengers
can just feck right off
we want social justice
please

© Rachel Green 2019

Saturday, 8 June 2019

8th June 2019

morning rain
covering the grass
a fat pigeon

© Rachel Green 2019

sore nose
at least it's clean
showered and tape replaced
more blood, of course
tired of that, now.

© Rachel Green 2019

Friday, 7 June 2019

7th June 2019

cloudy skies
expecting rain
leggy cornflowers

© Rachel Green 2019

impulse purchase:
I can justify it for others
but not for myself.
The Reader’s Digest Book Of Folklore, Myths and Legends Of Britain
might be a seminal look at folk horror
but I'm trying to divest myself of books
not increase my collection.
The time has come for me to sell more
all those poetry books
and martial arts.
But maybe not the art books
still treasured
and not available digitally.

© Rachel Green 2019

Thursday, 6 June 2019

6th June 2019

morning heat
burning away overnight rain
mooching dog

© Rachel Green 2019

afternoon visit
to the church of St Peter
in Hope valley.
we check each stone
Elliot, Eyre,
Hobson, Shallcross,
Septimus Allenenshaw
 and his son, Septimus,
all forgotton
with ivy over their graves.
Alas, we never found Reg and Kitty
aning the weathered markers
not even in the little cemetery
or the unlabelled woodland plots.

© Rachel Green 2019

Wednesday, 5 June 2019

5th June 2019

falling petals
an oriental poppy
hides its shame

 © Rachel Green 2019

paintings
stacked against the wall
in a dusty attic
all those dreams gone to dusk
where life was full of wonder
and fame just a footstep away.

© Rachel Green 2019

Tuesday, 4 June 2019

4th June 2019

unshine
the grass baked
flat light

© Rachel Green 2019

let's try something later
when my brain is awake
and my nose less dtuffed
with snot and congealed blood.
I'll walk the dogs,
bathe in the warm raid
and remember the scent of elderflower

© Rachel Green 2019

Monday, 3 June 2019

3rd June 2019

seed heads
drying in the sunshine
dream-soaked sheets

© Rachel Green 2019

Indian candidate
cries after election
with just six votes.
"I wouldn't mind," he said,
"but there a nine voters in my family."
Such a shame
Britain has voted for Fascism
once again.

© Rachel Green 2019

Sunday, 2 June 2019

2nd June 2019

White-tailed bumblebbes
making a home in the pottery
a Michelin rating for the garden

© Rachel Green 2019

messaging a website
on a Sunday morning
but there's no reply.
Surely a bot would reply.
Do bots have undays off?
Do they pray to a Silicon god?
or do they just
Not Care?

© Rachel Green 2019

Saturday, 1 June 2019

1st June 2019

unshine
anticipatory garden
shaken by wind

© Rachel Green 2019

lurgid bees
TV adaptation
of a personal favourite
shows Pratchett's influences
from the late seventies radio shows.

© Rachel Green 2019




Friday, 31 May 2019

31st May 2019

overcast
among the aquilegia
a solitary bee

© Rachel Green 2019

packing removed
from my rhinoplasty.
Remember the scene in Total Recall
where Arnie extracts the tracking device?
Yeah. Like that.
Twice.
But such such a relief .
For the first time in my life
I can breathe through my nose.

© Rachel Green 2019

Thursday, 30 May 2019

30th May 2019

species geranium
continuing the blue theme
a profusion of cornflowers

© Rachel Green 2019

red hot pokers
Kniphofia uvaria
inelegant plants
recalling my youth back
a garden on the way to school
where we would dare each other to touch them
and I, timid,
afeared of being burned.

© Rachel Green 2019

Wednesday, 29 May 2019

29th May 2019


 morning sun
the peonies all in flower
oriental poppies

© Rachel Green 2019

sunshine
youths steal the charity bags
left out for collection

© Rachel Green 2019

Tuesday, 28 May 2019

28th May 2019

Night rain passes
leabind a growth spurt of grass
Aquilegia hidden

© Rachel Green 2019

Film Review

John Wick 3
everything you expected
from a Keanu film.
Action, Deaths, Pain,
action, guns, knives
and Halle Berry.
Does no-one inNew York
notice all these deaths
in the middle of the street?
In London it would be different:
"You can't leave that body here, sir,
Littering is an offence."

© Rachel Green 2019

Monday, 27 May 2019

27th May 2019

sun...rain...sun
perfect bank holiday
sheltering ladybird

© Rachel Green 2019

fuzzy head
bloody snot pouring
rhinoplasty recovery/
honestly?
I would never go through this again
horror


© Rachel Green 2019

Saturday, 25 May 2019

25th May 2019

blue skies
picking out cornflowers,
iris, aquilegia

© Rachel Green 2019

old photos
labelled in Italian
scanned into the PC
a digital footprint
they never expected.

© Rachel Green 2019

Friday, 24 May 2019

24th May 2019

morning heat
oriental poppies
and blue iris

© Rachel Green 2019

ouchies
nose reconstruction
healing slowly

© Rachel Green 2019

Thursday, 23 May 2019

23rd May 2019

overcast
a fitting tribute
to the European elections

© Rachel Green 2019

dead phone
wont keep a charge
but lets me read Kindle
on 1% battery.

© Rachel Green 2019

Tuesday, 21 May 2019

21st May 2019

bright sun
oriental poppies
dead phone

© Rachel Green 2019

dead battery
in my phone
thanks to the washing machine
everything works
(except the camera)
so a replacement ordered
Thanks, small savings sum.


© Rachel Green 2019

Monday, 20 May 2019

20th May 2019

may blossom
scents the air with summer
clouds of midges

© Rachel Green 2019

dog's terror
of a weekend visitor
leads her to hide in the garden
settling behind the shed
shunning comfort
and food
even after the guest has gone
her legs
shaking with fear

© Rachel Green 2019

Sunday, 19 May 2019

19th May 2019

overcast
ramsons fade away
peony blooms


© Rachel Green 2019

I don't have poetry
in my heart today
too many nightmares
and a lack of sleep
At least
I still have hope.

© Rachel Green 2019

Saturday, 18 May 2019

18th May 2019

overnight rain
settles into morning clouds
chimneytop magpies

© Rachel Green 2019

Thankyou, but no
I don't want any
especially not now
so goodbye, sir,
goodbye

© Rachel Green 2019

Friday, 17 May 2019

17th May 2019

glorious sunset
through the pantry window
wine bottles

© Rachel Green 2019

bumblebees
exploring the nectar
in the aquilegia.
Meanwhile
I spoon a pound odf eucalyptus honey
into the compost heap.
Nobody likes it
except the ants.

© Rachel Green 2019

Thursday, 16 May 2019

16th May 2019

sunshine
brightening a bird's colours
goldfinch

© Rachel Green 2019

scattered pearls
and semi-precious stones
where did they go?
A hundred or so
among the south coast flints
of a witch's circle
all vanished.
One suspects an intruder.

© Rachel Green 2019

Wednesday, 15 May 2019

15th May 2019

heat
in the dappled shade
foraging robins

© Rachel Green 2019


Home-made muffins
Yes, Karen,
this is why I'm fat.
Let's not count
the recent injuries
the ongoing depression
and the death wish.

© Rachel Green 2019

Tuesday, 14 May 2019

14th May 2019


oriental poppies
exploiting a sunny morning
window cleaners

© Rachel Green 2019

 advised
to stop thinking about death
and how much I crave it.
It hasn't brought religion
just peace/

© Rachel Green 2019

Monday, 13 May 2019

13th May 2019

seeding ramsons
occluded by taller plants
sleeping cat

© Rachel Green 2019

 spam folder
contains a blackmail notice
with a message from myself
undisclosed website.
Send a thousand dollars
or I release the webcam video
of you watching porno.
They know my password
to whatever site it is
but it's a genuine password
I use often
on non-confidential sites;
one with no card information,
I haven't watched porn
since I was a teenager
and whatever they have
is probably my gaming
but still,
that is my password.


© Rachel Green 2019

Sunday, 12 May 2019

12th May 2019

roses
among the raindrops
yellow poppies

© Rachel Green 2019

 the scab
slipping away
in a moment of joy
meeting people
over a game of cards
and a new board game

© Rachel Green 2019

Saturday, 11 May 2019

11th May 2019

sunshine
over the sparrowsong
may blossom

© Rachel Green 2019

 when I was young
the rattle of dustbin lids
signalled a visit by foxes
seeking easy food
My kids will never know the thill
of watching a vixen and her cubs
in their back garden
nor the closedown signal
after the BBC plays the National Anthem.
No Spangles or Hobos
or the excitement of finding a porno mag
in the hollow of a tree.
Sadly,
they still learn homophobia,
transphobia,
the fear of infectios diseases
and the xenophobic racism
of old cisgender white men.


© Rachel Green 2019

Friday, 10 May 2019

10th May 2019

old shed
covered in wisteria blooms
morning rain

© Rachel Green 2019

 fifteen years
from puppy to old man
my heartbroken sister

© Rachel Green 2019

Thursday, 9 May 2019

9th May 2019

cloudy sky
in pause mode
hopeful cornflowers

© Rachel Green 2019

 a brief message
to my sister.

I'm okay, thanks. 
Scrapes have all scabbed over
but my lower back still hurts a lot.
Nothing broken,
but my back and bum are a mass of bruise.
I fell in slow motion
quite certain I was about to die,
but I was okay with it. 
No regrets.


© Rachel Green 2019

Wednesday, 8 May 2019

8th May 2019

aquilegia and cornflowers
bobbing under morning rain
foraging blackbird

© Rachel Green 2019

 DK's new (to him) Jag
jump started and taken for inspection
turns out to be a wreck.
More damage than value
too much to be worth mending
that was the morning.
Follow with an argument
a trip to drop off charity goods
and buy nicotine
from a shop I've never visited;
add a dash of walking to the garage
to collect said wrecked car
and a blosson of pain
from existing injuries.
I forgot to write me' pomes

© Rachel Green 2019

Monday, 6 May 2019

6th May 2019

blue sky
over Chesterfield
police helicopters

© Rachel Green 2019

 a mound of washing
brought back from holiday
keeping me busy.
The ache in my back
a reminder of the holiday
lust passed.
Sleeping dogs
grateful to be home.

© Rachel Green 2019

Sunday, 5 May 2019

5th May 2019

bright sunshine
the dogs muddy paws
in the early dew

© Rachel Green 2019

 Worm's Head
brings a fall down a cravass
head and back injuries
I think I'm going to die,
find a curious peace with that
except for loved ones worrying.
I eventually escape,
spent two hours walking back over the rocks
that gave the able-bodied me grief.
Four hours in Swansea hospital,
I am pronounced probable to live.

© Rachel Green 2019

Saturday, 4 May 2019

4th May 2019

fading sun
dipping behind ancient stonework
skylarks

© Rachel Green 2019

 Worms head
an aim for today
heavy walking

© Rachel Green 2019

Friday, 3 May 2019

3rd May 2019

starlight
a pair of owls hooting
new moon

© Rachel Green 2019

 Three Cliffs bay
low tide meandering
in the stiff, sunless breeze.
natural tunnel
and pasties in a sheltered spot
Tired dogs
with sand-sore paws
Homeward bound.

© Rachel Green 2019

Thursday, 2 May 2019

2nd May 2019

morning sun
twinkling on a calm sea
distant boats

© Rachel Green 2019

 holiday
long walks and meals out
tired dogs
whining all night long
and denying me sleep


© Rachel Green 2019

Wednesday, 1 May 2019

1st May 2019


Beltane dawn
tinged pink with promise
urinating dog

© Rachel Green 2019

 walking on sand
where the dogs gambol over tussocks
and paddle in fresh river water
At the waters edge
the sea beckons
pieces of lands far distant
etched into the bay

© Rachel Green 2019

Tuesday, 30 April 2019

30th April 2019

cowslips
under a break in the clouds
bluebell woods


© Rachel Green 2019

 garden gate
made of driftwood
and sun-bleached tree bones.
An artist after my own heart
I could have made that
and no-one would know.
The dogs tread past with sand-strewn pawprints
intent on the next scent,
the next path.

© Rachel Green 2019 

Monday, 29 April 2019

29th April 2019


overweight fathers
under a darkened sky
post Easter schoolkids

© Rachel Green 2019

 bad dreams again
a discussion of psychotherapy
offered but declined.
Honestly, at sixty quid an hour
I rather have another dog.
Maybe I'll do dog walking for fun


© Rachel Green 2019

Sunday, 28 April 2019

28th April 2019

scattered sunshine
brings out the cornflowers
sudden rain

© Rachel Green 2019

 anticipation
a week on the Gower
with the promise of sunshine
and dogs on the beach.
It doesn't mean I'm not stressed.
I don't like to be away from safety.


© Rachel Green 2019

Saturday, 27 April 2019

27th April 2019

wild arum
drooping in the rain
dancing ladies

© Rachel Green 2019

 night terrors
witchcraft
and defacement
a spurned lover's revenge
returns to haunt me
fitful sleep
leaves me tired and hungry

© Rachel Green 2019

Friday, 26 April 2019

26th April 2019

thunderstorm
brings sunnun downfall
Welsh poppies

© Rachel Green 2019

 guilt
over eating pizza
but it was so good.
Why do I exercise
when I'm not losing weight?
At least I'm fitter
than I've been in years.
Cigarettes brought thinness
but denied fitness.

© Rachel Green 2019

Thursday, 25 April 2019

25th April 2019

one day of rain
and the garden lights up
lavender spikes

© Rachel Green 2019

 dreams
beset by Lovecraftian beasts.
Defending the house
with an old katana
and wishing the rapiers
were still sharp


© Rachel Green 2019

Wednesday, 24 April 2019

24th April 2019

chill wind
ruffling the new cornflower plants
furtive sparrows


© Rachel Green 2019

 no
just no
stop


© Rachel Green 2019
Journalist Lyra McKee, who was shot dead during riots in the Creggan area of Derry, Northern Ireland, on 18 April 2019 (AFP/Jess Lowe Photography)