Another Woman - Trudie Shannon

She approaches me, wobbling a little
Upon her high stiletto heels.
Her face has been painted as though
She wears another’s portrait upon the surface of her skin.
Her eyebrows arc like adulterated rainbows
Their lids a convolution of colour.
Her hair is dyed chic, sculpted to the contours of her cheeks
Her lips are engorged with botox
And aflame with fire red.
She approaches me
The older, indistinct, grey haired woman at a cafe table.
We are strangers but it seems she is drawn to me
On request, she takes a seat beside me
And offers me her name
And I gift her with mine.
She speaks haltingly as if a butterfly
Were trapped in her mouth
And says
I would be authentic, be who I am fearlessly
But I am too scared to be seen and
She hangs her head in inverted shame.
I order her a cup of coffee
Ask her to look at me
And when she does, I smile
And look directly into her eyes.

Trudie Shannon

Letting Go - Becky Hall

fingers curled tight
to the memory
replayed in cinematic glory
on the reels of my mind
each time escalating
in volume and colour.

Interpretation of intention is the key
unlock the meaning
block pre-conceived ideas
rewind.

listen
drop the barricade
allow a different viewpoint
swallow
lick your wounds
loosen your grip
replay
new angle.

Becky Hall

King of the Pond - Tony Gardner

King of our pond is a fish called 'Spot'
He's white with a blob of red on his Nutt.
He chases the others with sex on his mind
He's the randiest fish that you ever could find.
He chases the newts, and worries the frogs
Eats all the spawn with 'gobble, gobble gobs'
He has dozens of offspring, but it's sad to tell you
That he chases them all, and eats some of them too.
So it's easy to look at our nice placid pool
Lillies abloom on the surface so cool
But 'neath quiet ripples is played a cruel game
Where King Spot rules in his ruthless domain.

Tony Gardner

Today Was The First Day Of The Rest Of My Life - Lyndon Queripel

Well, first of all I woke up late
I’m usually out by half past eight
The thought of work depressed me so
I decided that I would not go
Tossing and turning in my bed
I tried to go back to sleep instead
My eyes were tired, burning red
And there was an aching in my head
It was afternoon when I got up
And put some coffee in a cup
When I looked around in dismay
To find there was no milk today
The bread was in a stale state
And way past its sell by date
I turned on the t.v,the news of course
Yet another war, more military force
Followed by the weather forecast
The Sun would shine but wouldn’t last
Then I had to switch it off fast
Next was a party political broadcast
Thought I had some mail for a minute
But there was only a bill in it
I tuned the radio, forget the D.J’s name
It’s funny how they all sound the same
“The Top Ten Countdown” said the voice
Well one man’s music is another man’s noise
The telephone rang and I answered
“Sorry, wrong number.” is all I heard
So I looked out the window and the door
Nothing seemed any different than before
I read the paper, who’s wed, bred and dead
Then feeling rather tired I went back to bed.

Lyndon Queripel

Exit Strategy - Stephen A. Roberts

Hark, do I hear a robot talking?
No it's only Stephen Hawking
Telling us that we're all doomed
Spinning round in space, marooned

We've outgrown Earth and scraped it bare
So it's time to find a new home out there
Sail away from our plastic oceans
Microbeaded by our bodily lotions

We need to go into a new Ark two by two
But it will be only for the chosen few
They'll boldly blast off into the night
And leave this broken world to its plight

Traveling into the dark beyond Mars
To a brand new Eden in the stars
Sounds like a journey with no crisps or beer
So I think on balance I'll stay here

I'll wait with you in the dying light
We can watch the sunset as the animals fight

Stephen A. Roberts