STINGS

I've been told that I was stung in the face by a wasp
When I was a baby in my mother's arms.
She was on her way to the shop across the road
When the swift assassin struck me unawares.
I've been told that I screamed and my mother was frantic,
That I developed a slight swelling in the cheek
That Germolene or some such magic calmed eventually.

But I've had my revenge on hundreds of the little bastards over the years,
The stings of the father, you might say, swatted and squashed
By tennis racquets, rolled-up magazines, Irish News copies
And whatever else came to hand in duels to their deaths.

I have been stung many times since the first incident,
stings not so easily dealt with by racquets and magazines,
stings that didn't even involve the angry evil of wasps,
stings from shallow acquaintances and false friends,
stings that leave me with thoughts of vengeance, of loose ends.

READING 2 POEMS: CANDLES & NEOLITHIC

Here I am reading two poems - Candles & Neolithic

https://audioboo.fm/boos/2026693-2-poems-candles-neolithic

CONSCIOUS UNCOUPLING

*Conscious uncoupling,
Unconscious coupling,
Rational unbuckling,
Irrational buckling,
Knowingly unknotting,
Unknowingly knotting,
Decisively unzipping,
Indecisively zipping,
Conclusive untying,
Inconclusive tying,
Premeditated unshackling
Unpremeditated shackling..........

.......sad when things don't work out,
but no need to mangle the language in my book,
inventing phrases and descriptions at times
is just old gobbledygook.


*A phrase used by a celebrity to describe a relationship break-up.

THE GHOSTS THAT SELL MEMORIES by NIGEL USHER

Allow me to guide you towards The Ghosts That Sell Memories by Nigel Usher

http://www.narratoruk.com/2014/03/the-ghosts-that-sell-memories-nigel.html?spref=fb

IF

If my mother had not have been her,
I would not have been me.

If my father had not been him,
I would not have been me.

If my mother and father had not been them,
I would not be.

I would not be in this place,
in this chair,
tapping this keyboard,
creating these words,
thinking these thoughts,
living this life.

I would be someone else
or, perhaps, I would not have been born.

I would not have been me.

WIND

Wind of change,
Howl of apathy,
Breeze of sighs,
Gust of despair....

....the flame wavers,
sways, flickers,
splutters as a door opens
or slams shut.

The flame reacts 
but remains alight
defying the power of darkness,
leading the way,
to a place of the possible.

ANCESTORS

Ashes, ashes,
dust, dust,
the remains of ancestors
like dunes
blocking my progress
from here to there,
from past to present
and on.....

My feet sink into
the sands of time.
I move slowly
if I move at all,
the grip of annoyed spirits
tugging at my heels.