Someday reign

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Somedays start with a mix of rain and squeals. Those days are long.

There’ll be unappreciated Lego, inconsistent baking, paint spills and bed sheet cubby houses that they’ll prefer destructing over constructing. There will be tears.

These days are caffeine fuelled and frustration filled. Dad tries hard but I struggle to reign with Sunday rain.

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Fresh

jobs-hairdressers-in-lancasterHis hands lured me in, gently rummaging through the forest on my head.

Then flying blades cut through like low flying jets as roaring clippers cleared all debris. The attack was swift and virtually painless.

“How do you like it?” he asks.

“It’s good” I reply. What else can you say to a fresh haircut?

In respnse to the Five Sentence Fiction prompt: Fresh

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Boardroom to bullets

Pray4ParisThe chair rolled back from the table and he rose to his feet. With the margins filled with sketches and strained eyes from staring at the clock, that meeting couldn’t have finished soon enough.

But from clock to barrel of a gun, he suddenly longed to be gathered around the boardroom table.

Pray for Paris

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Walking with a stranger

canstock0379044She was on my left, between me and the river.

Feeling warmth on my neck but my guilt made me shiver.

Undeserved, she was innocent. It’s just one of those things.

Her eyes are an empty vessel filling with danger.

Holding hands in hope, I walk with a stranger.

Written as part of Morgen’s Online Poetry Writing Group

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In the lonely crowd

computer_stareAfter being on the outside for so long, I never thought community would be so lonely. It was empowering to make the acceptance pledge but that’s where it ended.

Now I sit surrounded by noise, a sole cubicle like a tree in the woods, regretting that very pledge.

“I hate my job”

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MONDAYITUS: What’s at the foot of the problem?

socksRude and intrusive … the alarm was far from welcome.

My shirt scrapped harshly across my back and I began my first to do list for the year. “Buy fabric softener.”

With this attitude my first day back was going to be hard. Soft and welcoming, my outlook changed in an instant; brand new socks.

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#prayforsydney

A poem from a man who feels like the only way to help is to pray for Sydney

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He waits alone, not knowing what the day will bring. Not knowing himself if he’ll sink or sing.

He reads each line and every part. A dimly lit platform matched by his heart.

Sirens sit silently, the commotion is over. Luck means less than a four leaf clover.

A cafe visitor cum hostage is such a short space. With full media coverage it’s right in our face.

His train is delayed but it’ll come and he’ll board. Meanwhile he’ll pray for Sydney beginning with Dear Lord.

Reach out to someone if you’re hurting or reach put to someone else if you think they’re hurting. Yesterday’s hostage situation didn’t highlight the need to debate religion but it did show the dire need for community. Be strong Sydney

Smiles & Hair

 

 

They agree, they are not a couple. They also agree that there would be benefits; laughter and shared hair products.

They agree, they are not a couple. They also agree that there would be benefits; laughter and shared hair products

 

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Waiting at the Sourdough Cafe

Greg

Greg considered himself a smarter than the average bloke. He’d finished school without failure, graduated from university with a degree tucked proudly under each arm and for the last couple of years has been known in his industry as a bright talent to many and a guru to a few more.

Despite this, some things in life still send his mind into orbit. What do women want and how does a tree grow sideways?

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Bliss. At least for now

stock-vector--the-hands-holding-a-newborn-baby-symbol-in-simple-lines-98594540Life held in hands. Meaning cupped in palms. Responsibility had no weight. I felt love.

The nurses fractically whirled around her as a single bead of sweat out ran the hair stuck to her forehead. A smile grew across her tired face. What began nine months ago was ending in pure joy.

Mother, Father, Parents … blissfully unaware. 55new

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