Rip Tide – VisDare 64

June 7, 2014June 7, 2014freyathewriter 9 Comments

I pushed the little paper boat round and round the kitchen table, imagining it sailing off into a picture-perfect sunset.

What the hell was this all about? And where was Jo?

My stomach rumbled, reminding me it was well past dinner time. I glared at the oven, the hob, the CD player. Normally they would be doing things by now. The oven would be humming merrily, its light giving the food inside a warm, yellow glow. Something would be bubbling on the hob and the CD player would be playing something soothing.

Now, all was silent.

I mooned around the flat, lost in the emptiness. I held the little boat in the palm of my hand, trying to read its unwritten message. I was no good at subtlety.

I turned the CD player on. The song filled the room and all became clear.

Enya’s ‘Sail Away’.

Jo had gone.

——-

Here’s my latest entry into VisDare this week, the prompt run by the lovely Angela. I did struggle a bit with this one, until I heard this Enya song in a shop this afternoon. As the young, cool kids say these days – Boom! I hope you enjoy it. Take part, why not?

In which nobody is satisfied – VisDare 63

June 1, 2014freyathewriter 9 Comments

worker ants are we

carrying our load

that over the years

has become leaden, unwieldy

and grown knife-sharp

burrs digging into skin and necrotising flesh

eroding and abrading

laden with expectation

wants have transformed into needs

more urgent than water

than the very air we breathe

infinite possibilities are subsumed

in unrelenting grey dolour

as unstoppable as time itself

it takes strength to resist

to walk away from the pressure

and those who say ‘just do it’

and those who say ‘it’s not that easy’

are both right

each from their own perspective

each from their own prison

each hearing, but not listening –

empathy is necessary

more so these days than ever, perhaps

and yet the white noise deafens

we are hoodwinked and blinded

and through wilful isolation

we choose to fail to realise –

we are not alone.

——-

Here’s my latest entry into VisDare this week, the prompt run by the lovely Angela. I have chosen to write in poetic form this time, but of course, I have met the guide of using 150 words or less! Please feel free to read, comment, critique or just enjoy, whatever you prefer.

I am going through a bit of a political phase on my blog at the moment, as you will see from here and here. Of course, all of life is political and politics invites people to disagree with your opinions. Wouldn’t life be dull (or horrific) if we all had the same viewpoint? I’m not great at arguments, they do put me in turmoil. But life requires you to be brave, right?

Mixed Messages – dVerse

May 31, 2014May 31, 2014freyathewriter 59 Comments

once, they said we could have it all –
the partner, the career, the children
we could be superwomen all day long
immaculate, capable, professional
the mother, the lover, the corporate boss
all superlatively and effortlessly achieved
the house, the car, the long-haul holidays
yes, once, they said, we could have it all

and then, and then
we were vilified for wanting a career, and
for wanting to leave our babies at nurseries, and
for making someone else prepare the dinner, and
we were penalised at work, we were penalised at home
whatever we did – we were wrong
the back-slapping testosterone board-room, boar-boorish doors were closed
the mothers at the school-gates-club
raised their collective eyebrows at parents’ evenings
as the strange apparition of the ‘career woman’ made her appearance

and then, and then
the childless, the husband(or wife)less
were dragged through the biting, back-biting, tight-lippedness
un-natural, bitch-in-the-boardroom, frigid, husk treatment
damned if you do what they want
damned if you don’t
damned every which way but young, blond, legs-up-to-here and easy to please
we are our own worst enemies, and
we listen too much to the media, and
to the politicians (who listen too much to the media)
we listen too much to our inner bitch voice
you know the one, the friend who nobody wants
can we turn her off?
only if we work harder than was ever expected
of the mother-lover-corporate boss –
only if.

Mixed Messages

———-

It’s that time of the month, the last Saturday, where us poets can leave whatever type of poetry we like at the dVerse bar – yes, it’s Open Link Night! Tonight, Mary is our congenial barkeep – her first time on OLN, so be kind, don’t wave money in her face to get her attention or reel off a long list of drinks. All in good time!

This piece of mine was something I was working on for submission to an anthology, but I decided to go with something else instead which was more fitting. I only half-finished this poem, so this has been buffed up a bit and chopped around. As is common with my work right now, it’s a little political! I obviously have issues I need to get off my chest.

Please pop over to dVerse to see what varigated delights await you. No two poems will be the same, that’s for sure. Happy reading, all.