Telephone Booth
we pretended to be Superman
checked for loose coins
listened to the dial tone
wondered if we could
make it ring
Now I listen to the dial tone
a comfortable static
pausing before I dial
and remember the
conversations we never had
but wished we did
The School Reunion
Nothing has changed
After 20 years
Sitting around
Recounting weekend stories
Anecdotes and non-sequiturs
And still questioning
Our own identity
hidden behind a
uniform of a
different type
A Catalogue of Saviours
He flicks the pages
of the junk mail catalogues:
the sacred texts
of the emperor’s
new clothes
and believes
in their righteousness
(plus postage and handling
allow 2-3 weeks for delivery)
Two-Faced
I deface myself
in the mirror
afraid to approach
at face value
when I am not
prepared to lose face
can I face up
to who I am?
The Machines
While the machines create
journalistic novels
of formulaic structuralism
based on quotient algorithms
the literature of the pen
will flow as blood
poured into a singular
stream of ink
passed from hand to hand
the preservation of the
sacred
Posted in Ars Poetica, Post It Note Poetry
Tagged creativity, experimental, literature, microfiction, micropoetry, poetry, post it note, post it note poetry, slice of life, writers, writing
The Prophet
His presence attracted
disconcerted stares and
nods of self-satisfaction
at his attire:
sandals worn with socks
His voice remained
unheard above the
sneering gossip of
faux sincerity
Only in his hometown
is a prophet
unrecognised
Posted in Ars Poetica, Post It Note Poetry
Tagged creativity, experimental, microfiction, micropoetry, poetry, post it note, post it note poetry, the prophet, writers, writing
Traffic Cones
An orange cone
on a black tarmac
divides the flow of traffic
A young man holds a sign
of dishevelled appearance
divides the flow of pedestrians
Posted in Ars Poetica, Post It Note Poetry
Tagged creativity, experimental, life in general, microfiction, micropoetry, poetry, post it note, post it note poetry, traffic cones, writers, writing
Bedroom Conversation
There was nothing I could do
It just happens sometimes
No, I can’t always control it
I’m sorry your mother noticed
You think it was awkward?
It was an unfortunate erection
Stop laughing; it’s not funny
That’s killed the mood
I’m going to sleep
* I posed the challenge to the members of Post It Note Poetry to write an awkward sexy poem for Valentine’s Day. This is my effort.
Lawnmowers
the dividing line of suburbia:
a rickety paling fence
observations made of a
greener side
without adequate qualification
in acts of comparative jealousy
take up your lawnmower
and follow me
there’s a garden to care for
and it’s not on the
other side
of the fence
Posted in Ars Poetica, Post It Note Poetry
Tagged creativity, Lawnmowers, microfiction, micropoetry, poetry, post it note, post it note poetry, writers, writing
Box Of Matches
Prometheus’ gift reduced
to domestic convenience
packaged and shelved
waiting for the sulphurous
strike against the edge
a flare ignited
will it burn
twice as bright
and half as long?
Pick one.
Strike it
and see
I am an English teacher and drummer/percussionist with an interest in literary pursuits, creative endeavours, rhythmic permutations, theological amplifications and comedic outbursts.
Here you will find my creative detritus: articles on living a creative life and writing explorations.
And other ideas I have snaffled from the papers stuck on the fridge door.
Twitter: @RevHappiness
Instagram: @handwrittenpages
My collaborative epistolary novel, "Post Marked: Piper's Reach," written with Jodi Cleghorn (@JodiCleghorn) out now via Vine Leaves Press.
Come and browse through the library; there is no need to be silent.
A Fullness in Brevity - Adam Byatt 