They are mud and grass and sunset skies,
dull with fatigue though often bright with tears,
they darken at memories and lighten with laughter.
Fleck speckles break the radial lines,
the iris is distorted by lens and through the eye glasses,
thick and cumbersome.
Oval pupils subtly not cat slits.
My partner bought me some story writing dice which have themed pictures on and which are great for making up silly stories on the fly!
But they also got me a large set of Haiku Dice – as in there are a lot of dice and the rules for how to use them are slightly more involved!
I think they work well if used a bit like fridge poetry but I was abit annoyed to find that there were blank spaces and repeats on some of the dice but that is only due to personal preference on how I like to use such writing aids.
Still they are pretty useful and we have both had a lot of fun with them and I am looking forward to constructing some writing workshops around them 😀
The Boggle Bog
was a monstrous log
that lived in the swamps of Forgetme Knot
Large and brown
covered with lichen down
to hide him in the swamps of Forgetme Knott
With teeth of pinecone
he was apt to roam
Within the swamps of Forgetme Knott
He would wait for strangers
but hide from the rangers
Knowing as he did the swamps of Forgetme Knott
A fearsome ROAR
set the score
OF fear in the swamps of Forgetme Knott
And upon his brow
a fungus crown
For ruler was he in the swamps of Forgetme Knott
I’ve been awondering a wondering a wondering
For a long time now
A wondering what you see in me
Ever since you said to me
Lets go for a drink or three
I’ve been a wondering a wondering a wondering
for a long time now
A wondering how you put up with me
Everytime I scream you just make me a cup of tea
Hug me an leave me be
I’ve been awondering wondering wondering
for a long time now
wondering will you stay with me
Even though I push you away from me
You fetch me back each time I flee
Maurice the musical mechanical mouse
Lives in a wonderful little house
The chimney is made of a silver flute
And when the wind blows it will toot
The well is a cymble above a drum
When you turn the handle it goes
Pa ra pa pa rum
Maurice the musical mechanical mouse’s
wonderful little house is
Tiled in piano keys
That pigeons play just how they please
And the walls were xylophone bars
That are played by tiny crickets
driving tiny cars
Maurice the musical mechanical mouse
invites the choir to his lovely little house
They all drink tea
From glass ware tuning to D
And Maurice picks up the spoons
An improvised orchester
Soon fills the room
Maurice the musical mechanical mouse
Lives in a tonialy quaint little house
With crickets a clicking
Choirs a singing
Drum wells a dinging
Spoons a pinging
Bell tea cups a ringing
Flute chimneys a tooting
Orchesters Hooting
Pigeons and roof piano plinking
in hale
What a wonderful sound
it all would be
if they were all playing the same song
In the same key
As Mr mechanical Mousy!
Gaming boring boardgames
Gambling gumdrops
Frittering our free time
Singing to the tots!
Theme tunes
With plushy amime heros
Knitting alien head gear
Making cosplay
With spaceship cookies
Daftpunk dreams
The dead teacher hung from the rafters
A distended face locked in agonising turn
Students gaze glassy eyed uncomprehending
As they return to a parody of education
With all facts ripped from within
The police office was garrotted
Lycra tights of the sex worker
cutting into a thick neck that was stuck out
Trying to help
Now they line up against a different wall
Chips of masonry fail to plug oozing wounds
The charity worker a bloody pulp
Beaten with her own walking aids
Passers by avoid the mess with careful steps
Some remember… something
Litter the streets with copper coins
Until the street cleaners clean the stain
I bought a new dress
It was silkier than I thought
And when I put it on
I can’t help but think
That by the fashion police
I will be caught
You see it looks like it belongs to my 10 yr old
Really will I ever be so bold
As to don this lovely frock?
Will I be naught but a mutton chop
Some pruney wrinkly has been
But then I think SO WHAT!
If some think it’s obscene
I’m wearing my dress for me
Not for or against the femes
Just a star dress with galaxies
It is the best
My beautiful new dress!
Dark crystal shreds of liquid thoughts
Bubble up from the blooded gash
Teeth pink pearls streaked with history
Falling as slithers from tired gums
A sleekness aswaits the frayed me
As it looses tatters of dignity
Shedding the physicality
Nothing now but posioned thought
Floating free
A mass of threads tangling
Meat is meat and no more
A ruby drop falls
Seeding the plans below
With memories
They will grow
Maybe they can be harvested
And burnt
There once was a warewolf called Bode
Who was I’m afraid anything but bold
Instead of going out at night
To scare people and give them a fright
He would sit at home eating cream cheese
Asking for cold tea with a thankyou and a please