Do you ever just get stuck in your thoughts. Lost and not quite sure what to do or where to go. Marathon prevarication. Held back by thinking too much. And heat doesn’t help. You wait in hope that it might cool down. Your mind isn’t working, it’s fused in place, clunking, square thoughts jammed in a round hole. You just want to break out of it. Find a way through. Maybe in a while I will feel more like myself.
Along the pier
Walk out to Sea
Across the tide
My life to be?
An old man thinks
Of times gone by
Of gulls and skies.
Of storms and fog
Waves rolling high.
A girl goes skipping
The length of the pier
In the arcades
Candy floss, she cheers.
A woman now
Looks back in time.
Worm eaten memories
Are lost in rhyme.
From young to old
Each person’s regrets
Are tied together
In their own nets.
Sea and sand
Cliffs and rock
As the gulls flock.
My phone is full
The woman said
It’s full of dreams
And other stuff..
I can’t leave.
My pictures are
My phone is full
I can’t discard
All oof my cotton thread has been disappearing over the last few months. I was beginning to think we had borrowers like in the Mary Norton book ‘the Borrowers’, or maybe some magic elf Taylor using it to do invisible mending on worn clothes?
But no. I found my hubby winding my cotton thread around a mast and spars he’s attached to a toy motor boat. He’s taken the engine out. Why? Because he was having problems with the battery pack. So instead of getting a new one he decided to glue and tape the masts and cardboard sails to it. He’s been using the cotton to support the spars and mast. The boat looks like someone on Waterworld or Mad Max has been at it. It’s steam punk meets origami! I won’t show you a photo. I did find out he’s modified it a few times, and each time he’s used my cotton thread! Boo!
I like a wooded track to walk along, away from roads and fumes, especially if its a link between two places I want to get to and from. But strangely I don’t like to walk in woodland. I worry I will get lost. I’ve walked around some places and lost track of where we were. I even tried looking for the moss on the side of the trees to see if I could decide which way was north! Luckily the sun came out so I could tell which way was west, then I saw a way marker! I can’t imagine going to somewhere in a wood in the countryside and finding my way out! You can tell I’m nervous of it because of the number of exclamation marks I’ve used!
But a gentle walk along a wooded path in the town? That’s fine… Funny how different things affect different people.
Grr, I’m a tiger, I like this picture of me. It’s me and it isn’t.
I wish I’d done this as a face painting. But it’s on a phone app. That’s why it doesn’t quite fit to my face.
I don’t remember it blurring the area around my face. But only my hair. Weird.
I think of the words ‘Tyger, tyger burning bright, in the forests of the night. What immortal hand or eye, could frame thy fearful symmetry?
One day there might not be any Tigers left, then all we will have are photos, film and art. The memory of great creatures, small creatures, so many plants and animals that no longer exist…
You looked out in May
So proud and keen
Your profile reflected in glass
In the window.
Sure you would keep safe.
The sky would not fall…
Now you have dissolved,
Lost your identity.
Impaled on shards of humanity.
Sifted and sprinkled
With covid 19.
Stay safe they said
As you disappeared.
Concentrating on her mobile phone, thumbing her life away. While the world passes her by… Those women could be pocketing her goods. Would she even know? Being aware of what’s around you is so difficult when you are scrolling through Facebook or looking at Instagram, I know I do it too.
It’s when people start ignoring family and friends (I do that too). Sometimes I say ‘put the phone down’ to myself, but it doesn’t always happen.
TV programmes I want to see, radio I want to hear. Pass me by nowadays. I’m composing in my head, or commenting, or supporting causes. How did life get like this? At least I don’t use my phone when I’m driving… Just too much concentrating….
Looking for shells. Looking for seaweed on the seastrand. Everything washed clean, no sign of plastic. No sign of anything. The world had changed.
Food was the problem. Not a shellfish in sight, no fish either. It was like a desert. He tried sucking pebbles so that he could stave off his thirst. Later he would go and try and light a fire with some marram grass in the dunes. He walked up slowly off the beach, conserving his energy. There must be something somewhere.
He came over the rise and saw an old concrete building. No door, open to the wind, but shelter. He rummaged inside the cupboards, green with algae. Rotting. But amazingly he found old tin cans. Now if he could find something to open them with, light a fire.
Alone on the island he looked out to sea. Maybe one day a ship would pass? He could only hope.
This is Woody, that’s what we’ve christened him. He’s been hanging round our garden for a year, eating food, and he’s gradually settled in our summerhouse. But it’s not ideal. I’d invite him in but my two rescue cats are timid, and I never got them their booster inoculations because they won’t get in the cat carriers. Anyway they are indoor cats so as long as Woody doesn’t come in they are safe.
But (and you knew this was coming, didn’t you?) I feel sorry for Woody and so I got someone to come round and check if he’s microchipped. Turns out he is but the phone number is dead and although we have been told he’s from a few streets away, they won’t tell us where because of Data protection.
No one has put missing posters up so I guess he is abandoned.
He’s a lovely friendly cat but after a year of being semi feral it’s going to be hard to get him rehomed. He doesn’t like being inside (we tried to get him in out of the rain), but I’d love him to be loved and snuggled down somewhere. Maybe on his own with a big garden to roam around, but also more cuddles than we can give.
If you live in Staffordshire maybe get in touch?