It’s the first day of autumn, and last night there was a harvest moon. That makes me think I should be posting some poetry, but I can’t find anything particularly suitable.
Still, the weather really is quite autumnal today, and if it stays this way, it wouldn’t surprise me if the swallows started gathering early for migration. I’ve had telephone wires and communications on my mind a lot recently, so maybe this will fit the bill:
Continue reading “autumn”
I came across this monstrosity sitting in the local river this morning, and the word bulldozer wandered through my mind looking for something to connect with.
It reminded me of a transformer; a shape-shifting earth-shifter. I’m not sure what it was doing there other than looking slightly uncomfortable and as if someone had mistaken the nearly dry river bed for a parking space.
Continue reading “out of its element”
in the glass beside the sink
my toothbrush
kisses yours
Having come across the above snippet in an old notebook, I was reminded of a definition of true love.
I couldn’t quite remember it, though, and it’s taken me nearly an hour to track it down; it wasn’t Shaw, as I had thought, but Somerset Maugham, in The Constant Wife.
Maugham’s works are presumably still in copyright, so not so easy to find on-line, and although I have the complete short stories and a couple of novels, I don’t have the plays. Finally, though, I have found the piece I was looking for.
Continue reading “of love and toothbrushes”
He comes to her at dawn,
sweet-nothings her awake
as he nuzzles past her ear,
whispering his desire, telling
how her sweat draws him, how
he would risk his life to serenade her,
to tangle through her hair and kiss
the smooth curve of her neck.
I’m not exactly bubbling over with new ideas at the moment, so I’m looking back over old notebooks and reviewing pieces that I never thought sufficiently polished to submit for comment and critique, let alone for publication. So this is still a draft, but it amuses me, as does the idea of writing a poem to a mosquito. Of course, if you’ve interpreted it as meaning something different, that’s your prerogative as reader.
Well, the problem with my phone and internet connection was finally identified: apparently you can’t hope for a telephone to work when the cable is totally unattached.
I have my suspicions about which of the ‘technical’ guys was responsible, as there have been no more high winds since last week when it was fixed temporarily, and I don’t think the eagles that the village is proud to claim have started frequenting the area have been trying to perch in my orchard, so I can’t blame them.
Perhaps the most worrying thing is that the photo shows what is considered to be a solution. Just what do they think is going to happen to those exposed wires the next time we have a storm?
don't confuse the narrator 