Hit the wrong button!

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I’d written a poem about nature and autumn. But my phone won’t save drafts of my posts. I hit the wrong key. So I’ve lost it. It no longer exists. Like summer moving into autum then onwards, the poem has gone into the aether, lost for all time. I could try rewriting it, but the sentiment is lost, the feeling has gone. I’d done some nice rhymes, but I’m not going to easily remember them.

And when we get to this time next year? The world will have moved on through space and time. We never come back to the same place. The Earth turns, spiralling around the sun, which in turn moves around the galaxy…..

Bye words, take care xxx

Bureaucracy

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Apply online, fill in this form

The website gave me orders.

Now send in your proofs

Don’t forget to show

Your evidence of identity.

Your form is wrong

They tell me when I ring.

Please re-do this bit?

I send again, and yet, and still

There is another problem.

We accept your evidence

But you need to make an application.

But I sent that in, in April,

I reply in great frustration.

Oh we duplicated your account

It’s covid fault

They come back with more words

We will merge the forms

It will be OK,

You will here from us in due course.

Now I ring again…

The phone numbers wrong?!

Why didn’t you tell me I said?

It may be on your other account…

I’ll get it done again.

I’ve had enough,

I’ve tried so hard.

Beauraucracy

So annoying!

Memory, one year ago.

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I wanted to write a poem that rhymed more. A lot of what I write is in blank verse (a poem where words don’t rhyme). I tried to do something more flowing here. Don’t know if it worked.   (Could be a song?)

Different time

different place in space,

we’ve moved on,

you and I,

its a different sky.

My time is here,

your time has gone,

my life moves on,

you are almost forgotten.

Don’t force a smile,

you will be fine,

just let me go,

the stars say so.

Do say farewells,

and stay a friend,

but our sweet love,

must have an end.

Hello duck!

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This was a sign in a local museum that someone shared on Facebook.

It was strange coming to live here. In my home town people would say hello chick, or love. But Stoke people say ‘duck’. I had no idea of the origins, and the first few times I heard it I literally did duck! I thought someone was warning me! Eventually, though, I got used to the greeting. Together with the phrase ‘cost kick a bow agin a woe an it it wi yer hed til ya bost it?’ I may have misspelt this but it means ‘Can you kick a ball against a wall and hit it with your head until you burst it?’

As you can see, the old dialect and pronunciation is interesting. But as someone with a west Midlands accent. Oim not reealy botheered abowt iyt.

Being isolated.

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That feeling of being trapped, a prisoner. But should that be our first feeling? In these weird times we can use ideas to try and cope. I’ve been talking to a friend, and I said that I thought being enclosed in a home is more akin to being a priest or a nun. Let me explain. I don’t mean in a religious way exactly. But if your home is safe, then it’s like being closed off from the rest of the world. Even to the extent that some people became hermits. Clearly this is not out of choice. But the point is you don’t have to feel imprisoned.

Yes it’s frustrating. I would really like to go to a restaurant or a pub or go out for a walk. And because I can’t go out I think about it more. But it is a temporary situation. It’s bad, but it’s not going to harm me to stay home. Stay safe.

X

I tripped over… Poem?

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I saw this challenge on Facebook.

Type a phrase then chose the middle button of spell checker to continue. I thought it might make a poem? The phrase is… I tripped over….

I tripped over

I don’t know what to do

I don’t know if you have the same thing

But I can send you a link

I can add buttons to the list

You might end up with a cold

I have edited the last one first

Good to be a bit more practical

But all I want to get is the best

I have been working on the first week

And the last one they had with me 

Food and water and all those days.

Well I’m not sure what I think of it, I think it’s quite emotionless. It’s only an algorithm though. My words. I did edit it slightly otherwise it would have said ‘sent from my Xperia’…

 

Books

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Oh books, you tomes of wisdom,

your cracked pages full of age,

paperback and hardback,

album and autobiography.

You change my mind, change my thoughts,

help me to learn, help me to see.

Books hold knowledge, and deceit.

Not all knowledge is truth,

Sometimes it’s misinformed,

or misinformation.

But I’d rather have a book than a computer……

Books are analogue.