Category Archives: Writing

Like an abandoned shopping trolley in the breeze

Like an abandoned shopping trolley in the breeze

He moves back and forth on the bench

Shuffling his notes around

Waiting to speak

The time doesn’t arrive

He moves back and forth on the bench

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Ink Sweat and Tears

I am featured over at Ink Sweat and Tears poetry webzine today.

The poem is The Paperboy Whose Mind and Paper Round Expanded.

It will tell you a bit about growing up and suburban paper round routes.

Surtr

The Norse fire giant Surtr lived in a small electricity power station just outside my primary school. The bringer of Ragnarok was a distinct presence around the playground, with tales of his wanton destruction and grief-giving the talk of many a troubled playtime.
Once an overzealous goal kick led to a fly-away Frido football pitching up just outside Surtr’s modest home. I went to retrieve the ball. As I approached I was gripped by a sense of pure dread and dark foreboding as if this was it, the phase of all-consuming fire. A warning sign of ‘electricity – danger of death’ glowed hypnotically, radiant with the full fury of the arch-demon. I stood there, entranced and with a feeling of impending doom.

And in the furthest reaches of my brain I heard a bell sound and a voice, stark with intensity:

“Oi, Rob, where’s the Frido?”

Motorway Spirits

Here I lay
Struck cold by a van
On the motorway.
Still and quiet
Like a dead bird or rabbit
Though getting hit by cars
Is not in my habit.

I turn and wave
As each new one
Passes me by
Bits of bone
Bits of flesh
Blowing from tarmac
To sky

Got proper stuck from A to Z
So chucked the roadmap instead
Drive on or walk on
There’s nothing left to see
Abandoned dogs listen
I promise them:
We shall run again

Online Portfolio

So, I have a ‘webfolio‘. Put together by Contently, it shows off some of my articles in a pretty attractive way. Basically this translates as – ‘I’m looking for work’. Anyway, all the best for 2015!

https://robertwmonk.contently.com/

Fortune

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Good fortune favours the brave, or so ‘they’ say
But it seems pretty accidental to me…
The tragedies and travesties of far away,
Edge ever closer and then just slip and slip into the sea.  

How many times can we stand to be shocked 
Before a real evolution occurs?
How many rockets and bombs need to be dropped 
Before a working method can be spurred?

Between the unmoving history of opposing forces
And the salient fixtures of pride, race and God
And the million messages from a million different sources
There is a different road waiting to be trod. 

And between staring at the screen and writing shared notes
That condemn the present in regard to the upcoming news,
A certain kind of fortune is offered by chance.
A humility that can exist to bruise.

 

 

Readwave stories …

Here is a link to my collection of short stories on the site Readwave… more to come soon.

http://www.readwave.com/robertwmonk/