I Wanna be a Fish

I wanna be a fish,
She said in a sesame smoked voice.
I wanna swim with a swish
And explore the  void of blueness where
The choice is limitless
Fish swish, I wish.
I wish to swish like a fish.

I wanna sea adventure,
She said in a panicked but punctuated whisper.
I want to escape into the ever
Past the choral and barnacles where
The down is bottomless.
Adventurous escape into the ever.
A Forever adventurous escape.

I don't wanna be an eel.
She looked down her elongated and
Natural aubergine form.
I don't like how this feels;
This body has to undulate with
its continuous fin.
I don't wanna feel like an eel.
I wanna swish like a fish. 

From A to B

From here to there
From A to B
As easy as the line between. 
But lines aren't always easy.
A line can go up and then drop down. 
It can weave and jive and jink its way. 
A line is still a line, no matter its pathway. 
From her to there
From A to B
Short words that can be a squiggle of a nightmare. 

But...
Just get to B
Then again...get to B
And again...just get to B. 

Communication is Essential

"You don't understand me."
I shift up the settee.
"You don't get me."
I wrap my arms around my knees.
"I don't know how to tell you ."
I've squeezed these words out.
"I haven't got the words."
Even these words exhaust me. 
"This conversation makes me feel sick."
But not you, I say desperately in my head.
"Please leave me alone."
Don't leave me - my insides scream.
"I'm better on my own."
That's not even what I meant.
"I don't want to feel guilty."
(of what I'm doing to you.)
"When I already feel this bad."
bad - doesn't do justice to the feeling.
"On my own, I won't hurt you."
It's the only answer I've got. 
"If I'm not there - you won't think of me."
This illogically just makes sense.
"I just need to get through."
I just need to get to the other side. 

Waiting for the Thunder to Stop

I'm waiting for the thunder to stop,

I'm waiting for the skies to clear,

I'm waiting for the flashes to cease,

I'm waiting to taste the air.

I'm waiting to be able to go outside,

I'm waiting to raise my head,

I'm waiting to feel no pressure on my face,

I'm waiting for the storm to leave no trace.

Life Bucks

Nervous anticipation,
The Horse backs into the box.
A flickering eye and a glance,
The rider checks the rigging,
Only my own breath of which i'm aware.
Bareback he is sat and ready. 
A sickening of the stomach. 
Then the gate opens -
Time doesn't work in this moment,
A sideways jerk to the right.
Not quite ready for this feeling.
Roughstock rear riding high in the air,
Just trying to hold on.
Each buck a kick of the legs,
Just trying to hold on. 
Spurs with dulled rowels tight to the sides,
Just trying to hold on.
Exhausted he's finally covered. 
Exhausted I reach the end. 

Falling on Bricks (Influenced by Shane Koyczan)

After having watched Shane Koyczan, I celebrated my father's birthday with this:

Shane can be seen at http://www.shanekoyczan.com/ or at http://www.youtube.com/user/ShaneKoyczan.

The Plonky Monk Stonk

In the last half term holiday, I had a couple of days where I wound down and made myself write. One result would only be translated by video.

I didn't say the translation would make sense!

The Plonky Monk Stonk

It was my thinking I was doing,
I was brainily using my conk.
But as I was walking along,
This is what caused the stonk.
See coming int he other direction
Sauntering along, came a monk.
As I wasn't paying no attention,
My senses went a-wonk.
I wandered into his path
And we collided with a bonk
He started spitting feathers,
Got angry and acted a plonk.
But his behaviour went too far
And he crazily called me a gonk.
I took matters in my own hands
And gave him a good left tonk.
So I reflect upon my actions,
How to avoid acting a right donk,
When I'm wandering aimlessly,
I'll remember to give a honk.