Monday 31 October 2011

haiku and micropoetry by gennepher

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***

the fog grew thicker
sinister mythical beasts
the misshapen trees

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I don't think I exist, my other half is vacant

***

one by one they slipped away into the darkness

***

the silence was really strange

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fluid and interlocking, green three-dimensional shapes

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a waterfall of purple pain, dissonance

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grated bones, shrieking

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it is not mine ~ it is not me ~ electric blue tangled ribbon

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onion skin layers ~ peeling off ~ one by one

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curly silences, the air is still

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the shadow strode confidently in the light

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plaster of paris body, a burning inferno inside

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luminescent green, searing and burning

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her hand reached into a space that wasn't there

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the wreath by the grave
it told a story
no-one knew

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they faded away ~ one by one ~ only one remained

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death arose from the beginning

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no time no place
everywhere is nowhere
nowhere is everywhere

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a blood stained parcel arrived
grandma
posted us a chicken

***

evil stepmother
always picked spring's first snowdrops
death stalked her life

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scraps of blackened paper circling the bonfire, three crows

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a shard of glass in the heart, bleeding it dry

***

the whisper died, echoing silently

***

looming out of the fog
twisted shadows
ivy covered oaks

***

utterly still
on a blackened tree
a single crow

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her mixed up bag of character traits, she was still searching for
her unused ones

***

her head disconnected
fragments
jigsaw puzzle incomplete

***

she felt strangely detached from her body, almost at peace

***

drown the rivers, they'll remain silent

***

invisible she wandered among them

***

eternally burning
rain beating on the eyes of the soul
darkness forever

***

she waited forever, and then she died

***

the child returned to her grave, her bed

***

she lived as a ghost, nothing connected

***

no-one saw her leave
she stepped sideways
became time itself


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Friday 30 September 2011

haiku, poetry and micropoetry of autumnal days by gennepher


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This post was composed and written in my garden today...an Indian Summer of a day...soporific and  leisurely...thoughts and pictures and videos of memories flooding into my head...as the day progressed....and my mind wanders inside itself and then around my garden...I have not had the chance to have a whole day doing something like this for awhile...life can get in the way...but not today...except I did have to come in to feed my tummy and the battery of my netbook...

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bindweed
holding fast
autumn's dying flowers

***

autumn hedgerows
blackberries
starlings feasting

***

blackberries
simmering in the pan
delicious juice

***

green tomatoes
ripening
on the window ledge

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autumn leaves
dancing in the breeze
tabby cat stretching

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last green apple on the tree
wasps feasting
dessert

***

hornets
investigating
inside spines of my art books

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lavender
a single bee
investigating every flower

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soporific cat falls off my lap
my netbook sliding too
I wake  up

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michaelmas daisies
butterflies
revelling in the sun

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dog heaves a big sigh
places her head
across my legs

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oak trees in my garden
haunting echos
of their shipbuilding past

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wasps
darting
to and fro

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darting movements
among willow branches
leaves falling

***

great tit
hopping sideways
up willow branches

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ripening
clusters
blackberries

***

last red apple
bobbing up and down in frog pond
a green frog's head pops up...

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virginia creeper
trailing fronds of crimson
cottage's winter shawl

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dew embroidered
silken cobwebs
intricate lacework

***

russet
bracken
a fox's tail

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hawthorn berries
misty evening
fairy lanterns

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dawn
tranquil lake
perfect mirror

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weeping willow
sighing wind
rust yellow leaves fall

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silver birch
shining gold robes of glory
setting sun

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honeysuckle
fragrant scent
evening's glow

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mouse
scurrying across road
leaf in gutter

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autumn leaves
in corner of garden
worm sanctuary

***

willow
sweeping my path
I put the garden cutters away

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autumn evening
willow paints the night sky
vibrant colours

***

swans drifting
on the lake
autumn clouds

***

autumn evening
inflamed sky
mosquitoes biting

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abundance of red berries
blackbirds
eat carelessly

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burnt copper orange leaves
oak tree
standing tall

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a knock on my door
one autumn evening
trees shedding leaves

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wind
rustling the leaves
front gate swings

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crimson leaves
scattered
the wind taking them

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autumn moon
absent tonight
diamond bright stars

***

since you left
fallen leaves
only willow sweeping

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a charcoal sketch
willow burning
charcoal sticks

***

autumn winds blow
leaves falling to the ground
compost

***

one autumn evening
a moth fluttered
outside the window

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I sit on my wooden swing
netbook perched on dog's back
writing poetry in autumn

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autumn
willow
waving off its leaves

***

brittle
autumn leaves
a skeleton remains

***

autumn winds
carrying my thoughts
my words

***

my shadow hides
with the dark
of autumn's moon

***

buddha
meditates
on an autumn leaf

***

a leaf falls
then another
and another

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with each passing day
willow losing
the bristles of her painting brush

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moon in wooden water butt
boat sailing across
a curled brown leaf

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crimson carpet

autumn maple leaves
path of fire

***

cool silent autumn night
dawn broke
crimson sky

***

autumn moon
travels the sky
just like any other moon

***

colours of autumn leaves
varied as words from a poet's pen
leaves of words

***

evergreen tree watches
as all the other leaves fall
one by one

***

the voice of autumn
speaking in a multitude of colours
and actions

***

as I sit here in the garden
writing autumn poetry
my dog cleans the spaces in between my toes

***

insanity
the summer mother
who gave up her child in autumn

***

her journey of life
autumn coming round each year
the calender already marked

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some leaves
falling too fast
branches prematurely bare

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a sepia photograph
your smiling face no more
continues smiling at me

***

no autumn clouds today
only a sea
of forget-me-not blue

***

sun journeying
westwards
all day long

***

I close my eyes
journeying eastwards
for a moment I return to source

***

I was born
and one day I will die
but not this autumn

***

it is noon
this splendid autumn day
my tummy rumbles and my netbook needs recharging too

***

I made the 'throw everything in' cupcakes...they smell good...now have a fresh flask of tea...netbook 97% recharged...that might be enough...so now a leisurely afternoon eating cupcakes, drinking tea and writing...

***

no leisurely eating of cupcakes
dog and I gobble them up
marauding wasps

***

dog rests her nose on my netbook
looks into my eyes
I don't have a clue what to write...

***

bird bath half in shadow
autumn washing
sparrows

***

japanese lantern
disused
a snail explores inside

***

leaves in my garden
never swept
I watch them dance

***

a hoverfly
studies me
then darts away

***

hovering
in the thermals
buzzards

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cats
hidden in the undergrowth
autumn sun peeking through

***

I rowed round and round the lake
red autumn leaves
rising with the water level in the wooden boat

***

a hornet
comes to share my swing
I brush him away with my netbook

***

wasps and hornets
my mind
not quite into poetry

***

the soporificness
of this autumn morning
vanished

***

my mind fragmented
reassembling cut out pictures
wasps eating my raspberries

***

behind the forget-me-not blue sky
diamond bright stars
waiting for indigo's night

***

warm dry autumn breeze
I use my eye drops
oh for the coolness of evening

***

buddha sits
as always
an ant carries a leaf

***

I have just dozed off again
my netbook sliding off my lap
I'll go and get some cushions for the concrete ground...

***

east winds blowing gently
honeysuckle
fragrance

***

a stream
my autumn coloured jacket
I walked across the stepping stones

***

a bee heavily laden with pollen
I remember
and then I forget

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sun moving
further westwards
garden in shadow

***

watering cans
red, green, yellow and orange
and a grey/white metal one

***

abandoned
spider web
crimson maple leaf

***

falling leaves
nature's
abundance

***

dry stalks
waving in the wind
their seeds released

***

my eyelids heavy
I put my netbook to one side
dog and I sleeping

***

Thursday 18 August 2011

haiku and poetry by gennepher


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the child danced
a song without words
wind laughed playfully


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happily all day
child traced patterns with a stick
on dry sandy soil 


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a pirate
sailing the seven seas
child on upturned dining table


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the child's parents
did not believe in prayer
but the child prayed anyway


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running barefoot along the sand
the child stopped and turned
she watched her footprints fill with water


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grandma said grace
the child eyed her dinner
getting cold


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tears kept wanting to leak out of her eyes
the child never realized
this was sadness


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the child's doll
her mama box silent
after having a bath...


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"Well I never"
the little girl said
to her broken doll


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in her mind
were all the books
the child could ever read



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hands pressed against the attic window
the child watched the slow Lancaster bombers
thundering over in the dark night sky



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the little girl
always wanted
a big red plastic train engine


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in amazement 
child watched monsters striding across wheat fields
electric pylons



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the child always knew
she belonged to nature
and to the sea


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standing by the stream
out of time
child and her brother



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***

a summer's day
time stretched
for the child


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***

the child and her brother
danced like two leaves
until the breeze caught him




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she talked to the tramp
but the child found out
he was a war veteran who’d lost everything


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Sunday 5 June 2011

haiku and tanka by gennepher

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the carpet
green
with sea bed colours
she dived in
swam away

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ambling
along
water’s edge
she sang a song
without words

***

sea listened
to her song
without words
sea spray
danced playfully

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***

sea foam
between
her toes
a memory
sea shells

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gazing seawards
she could almost see
the peace
she felt
from long ago

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a water memory
seeping all around where sound
was felt and not heard

***

running
barefoot
along the sand
she turned
watched her footprints fill with water

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the sea becalmed
a reflection more real
than the real thing

***

the bottle
with the note in it
finally reached the sea shore intact
no-one saw it
no-one picked it up

***

a seagull flying
one wing catching
the setting sun

***

tears kept wanting
to leak out of her eyes
was this the sea?

***

corked in the bottle
her memories of long ago
scent of deep ocean

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I gaze out to sea
seeing what I cannot
feeling all around

***

she always belonged
to nature and to the sea
waited to come home

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the dawn was breaking
wind gently lifting her hair
she dived in the sea

***

oceanic
depths
waiting
feeling
silence

***

along the sand
your diminishing footsteps
nothing remains

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***

luminous green waves
rose and foamed
crashed on the shore again
you
were within

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sea forever
serenading
the sandy shore

***

she always
carried
a sea-shell

***

wrote upon the sand
her whispered name long ago
the sea stole it back

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a brown wooden box
the parting gift he gave her
scalloped shell inside

***

saltiness lingered
a long way from home
seashells in glass bowl

***

around her neck
a bone carving
of a seahorse

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***

white waves
wind whipping the foam
touches her back
she turned
sea foam

***

arching towards the sky
frisky foam
along water's edge
a white stallion
rears

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***

your footsteps
washed away by the tide
mine remain

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Sunday 15 May 2011

tanka and micropoetry by gennepher


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curious quality
of
the dream
where all things
are possible

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alive
and
fluttering
the butterfly
within

***

the
dream
lives
in the tales
that are told

***


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only when
she could entertain
a mind picture
then
she could understand

***

singing lullabyes
the unknown voice
lulled her to sleep
it
watched over her

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a tear
found
its path
winding
down her cheek

***

the words
in my
head
get tired
sometimes

***

going
round the clock
the second hand
slices
fragments of time

***

the
guilt
of
the refusal
remained

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***

the
heart
remembers
even though
the roses have faded

***

I
miss
our conversations
which were still going
when dawn broke

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***

with every stitch
she placed
a thought
finally
the hand made doll was ready

***

she
was
not seen
so she wondered
if she were the ghost

***


***

with writing
the voices
grew quieter
they
became the stories

***

the ghost thinker
who twists
words
from
their original memory

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a
constant
reminder
the past
lurking

***

Friday 8 April 2011

tanka and micropoetry (memories) by gennepher

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neapolitan
ice cream
wafer
a memory
of yellow cornfields

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home-made
Victoria
butter-cream raspberry sponge
a memory
of grandma's high teas

***

a ninety-niner ice cream
I bought  in the park
for tuppence
a memory
of how I used my bus fare home from school

***



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orange juice
and
biscuits
a memory
of an elderly couple with a dog

***

my place on the bench
opposite a girl
with a perpetually snotty nose
a memory
of school lunches

***



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a wicker basket
of home-made cakes
covered with tea towel
a memory
of a walk upstream

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home-made liquidised soup
splattered
on walls and ceiling
a memory
of a meal in a commune

***



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lashings of custard
on
my pudding
a memory
of kind dinner ladies

***

mouldy white bread
and soup powder
in tap water
a memory
of a kind girl called Robin

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eating peas
straight
from the pod
a memory
of Granddad's vegetable garden

***

fried eggs
nearly all
double yolks
a memory
of collecting eggs on the farm

***



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sloes
eaten
from the hedgerow
a memory
of a cold frosty morning

***



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my
mother's
stew
I remember
hating sliced carrots

***

three tier
cake stand
full of cakes
I remember
Lyons Corner Houses

***



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on the moors
cold water
and tea bags
I remember
all the gas escaping from the calor gas cylinder

***

beef paste sandwiches
generously laced
with sand
I remember
Brighton beach

***

walking a long way
with the picnic basket
then the sun went in
I remember
my mother's bad temper

***



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a blood stained parcel
wrapped
in brown paper and string
I remember
grandma posting us a chicken at Xmas

***

a crusty bun
pat of butter
and oxo crisps
I remember
lunch for a shilling

***

a salad
all the ingredients arranged
picturesquely on the plate
I remember
the first meal John made me

***

gas stove
exploded
when I couldn't light it
I remember
first cup of tea I tried to make for my parents

***

white ice cream
with
hot chocolate custard
I remember
my favourite Sunday lunch pudding

***

eating a roast chicken
pulling it apart
with my fingers
I remember
a fancy dress medieval banquet

***

chocolate sponge
with
green mint custard
I remember
my favourite school pudding

***

rice pudding
with
figs
I remember
my least favourite school pudding

***



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in the hedgerows
sun warmed
raspberries
I remember
a walk with a friend

***

apples
red
and green
I remember
granddad's old gnarled apple orchard

***



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at the picnic
orange juice
poured into tumblers
I remember
the wasps joining in

***

a box
of Cadburys Milk Tray
all for me
I remember
my reward for finding a lost purse

***



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a full
two pint
orangeade bottle
I remember
a urine sample a classmate took to a medical exam

***

a huge enormous
dead black spider
in my lettuce
I remember
screaming one school lunchtime

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fish and chips
on
Bournemouth seashore
I remember
watching the sun go down

***

one third pint
bottles
of milk
I remember
drinking through a paper straw at school morning break

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a few biscuits
from each tin
in a white paper bag
I remember
the grocer's shop with bare wooden floors

***

sweets
for
a farthing each
I remember
my farthing with the jenny wren on it

***



***

a silver sixpence
into
a bubble gum machine
I remember
the Beatles cards that came with it

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***

fish and chips
in
a transport café
I remember
a video machine with Herb Alpert and the Tijuana Brass Band

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***

blackberries
soaking in salt water
the maggots floating to the surface
I remember
my mother-in-laws blackberry pie

***



***

chicken feathers
flying
in the breeze
I remember
grandma plucking the chicken for lunch

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