Tales From The Town #6: On The Beach

Down on the beach, under the light of the tainted moon, the waves broke backwards while the fish flew around like birds. Anemones bloomed in their billions like roses in the dark. And out of the sea the crabs swarmed together, dancing in patterns resembling the face of some shifting shapeless beast.

It was the night of the crabbus, and any soul who looked upon its form would be condemned toa lifetime of madness and despair.

Antoine watched on from the shadows of his cave. He shivered but did not look away. There is more in this world than any of us should ever know.

___________

Notes:

1. Written between May 13st and May 4th, 2021
2. The title is the title because I was listening to On The Beach by Neil Young at the time
3. Rather than because I was reading On The Beach by Nevile Shute at the time
4. Although that is on the shelf in my eye line as I type this

Some poems from years ago that I barely remember

I just found an old notebook with some poems in from years ago that I barely remember so here are some poems from years ago that I barely remember

*****

I would quite like to be eaten once dead
My body left by the side of the road
For the crows and the gulls
To pick clean my bones

(2010)

*****

She sliced apart her lips
and I sliced open mine.
And there upon the marsh
with a bloody kiss
we were married in our way

(6/6/15)

*****

Cutting The Cord

He handed me the knife
and said to me
You’re the mother
it should be you

So I took it from him
and cut the cord
and let her float out
away across the sea

(11/11/15)

*****

The children
in the playground
attack in packs
and devour the lonely

(28/5/15)

*****

By The Station In Norwich

Steel pole fence
strobing sunlight
and a tattered bag
caught on the barbs
dead between the storms

(29/12/15)

*****

New Year’s Morning, 2am

Are you weeing on my car?
Are you weeing on my car?
He is, you know
He’s pissing on my car

And then

footsteps
quickening
receding
the slamming of doors
the revving of engines

A slow returning silence

(1/1/16)

*****

I am scared
of the written word
and the unwritten
and the unsaid

(undated)

*****

And then another hundred empty pages all the way to the end of the book, which I would like to believe were an intentional part of the poem, but which obviously weren’t.

__________

Notes:

1. Written between 2010 and 2016
2. It’s possible the eaten once dead one has been on here before somewhere
3. But the others are all new
4. For whatever definition of new I’m using to describe six year old poems

Tales From The Town #5: There Is No Such Thing As Ghosts

They were hiding in the long grass in the hollow, watching the world go by. They could see out but no one could see in. Not even the dogs.

“Hana told Mum that Oya went to the ruins and Anna was there reading a book and there was a ghost there watching her and Anna wasn’t even scared at all,” Ethel said.

“There is no such thing as ghosts,” Claire said.

“There is,” Ethel insisted.

“There isn’t,” Claire said.

“What about Lucas?” Ethel said.

“He’s not a ghost,” Claire said. “He’s a reflection.”

“From the past!”

“He’s still not a ghost.”

“What about Lucy?” Tina asked.

“She’s not a ghost either,” Claire said. “She’s a memory.”

“But that’s what a ghost is!” Tina said. “A memory of yourself that never fades away.”

“But Lucy’s not her memory. She’s ours,” Claire said. “We’re not allowed to forget her.”

“She still sounds like a ghost to me,” Tina said.

“She’s not a ghost at all!”

“What about David?” Daniel asked, pointing to lonely figure moving glacially along the horizon line. His beard followed along behind him like a trail of smoke.

“He’s not a ghost. He’s a ghoul.”

__________

Notes:

1. Written between the 1st and 3rd of May, 2021