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?
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?
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.
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.
