fear

I remember the first time i saw a 'rag and bone man'. I was terrified, which is unjust because they are friendly chaps who used to give kids balloons for pieces of scrap. I guess i grew up in a time when they were dying out. Due to this i just didn't understand what he was all about. I'll never forget the how the cry of 'RAA-BO' chilled my blood. Looking back now its a fond memory. : )

A cold, grey, drawn and dreary day

Silence, stillness, snow starts to lay

A glum child looks out of his window

Nothing to do, nowhere to go

Chin rested on his small white hands

Dreaming, of exploring new lands

Stuck in a trance, silence and gloom

His only world, a large empty room

A piercing cry chills his blood

Haunting, loud, expelling all good

“RAA-BO” comes the despairing call

Sounding futile, yet heard by all

Next, he hears shuffling feet

Scraping along his barren street

Scared stiff the child watches the road

A cart creaks into view, shaky and old

“RAA-BO”, the cry comes again

making the hairs stand, and then

the source is seen, a ghastly sight

rags for clothes and eyes with no light

he slowly looks up, their eyes lock

the boy turns white, rigid with shock

This is the day, the boys fear began

Of the age old, unknown, rag and bone man.

7 long hours

Hello

I managed to get my last essay in on time, which was a relief. Although, it wasn't the best piece of work i've ever produced. In fact it was about as good as aids. Today brought another rush to meet the deadline, the dreaded deadline, that always sneaks up on me without me paying it too much attention. Maybe i'll learn from it this time, though the chances are my ostrich instincts will kick back in. I live by the sea and i like sand.
Todays project was editing a documentary for a media course. I expected it to only take another hour or so, yet i was working from 1pm up until 8pm. Rather annoying as the weather was lovely, a perfect day to bury my head in the sand and tan my ass!!

Todays poem, after sitting by a computer for 7 hours non-stop, with a drawn face and dry eyes i thought this would be fitting...

Internet Player
The only bags for life he carries, are the ones under his eyes
From stalking the internet at 3am, lurking, to surprise
Any like minded lass, who likewise fancies a chat
Straight into cyber, the small talk/foreplay don’t last long, cos he’s got the knack for that.
On msn he cant fail at all, cant do himself no harm
If it goes wrong he turns off his pc, when he cant turn on his charm
He stalks and talks, frantically searching for internet lust
Pictures don’t matter too much, cos in this world no ones fussed
Morning springs. His phone rings, he knows what its about
Its an old pals birthday and all the lads are going out
But giving up the opportunity to get out on an “all-dayer”
He thinks “its easier at home, where I can be an internet player”
So he ignores the phone and leaves it there ringing
Better off in here he thinks, cos outside he feels minging
They all say “you need some sun on that skeletal, drawn face”
But he shuffles away back to his lair, cos he’s a fucking disgrace.

Now, time for a cup of tea :)

Distractions...

Hello. I needed a decent distraction to cure my essay aids. It's one of the worst kinds after all, so here i am. It is a scientific fact that a distraction, along with a cup of tea, can cure anything in life. Burying your head in the magical sand of ignorance is indeed bliss. Have you ever met an unhappy ostrich?? Although this is of course one massive rumour, started by a roman writer. Ostriches really don't bury their heads in the sand. I, however, definitely do. It's cosy.

I'll post a poem every time i update this thing, either one of my own or one that i'm especially enjoying on the given day.

Today it's one of mine...

I dont know where i stand
so i'll fall for you instead
i have to follow my heart
for i've clearly lost my head
Yet when love has voice
theres no longer a choice
and security settles in
which surely in love
when push comes to shove
is a truly mundane thing

i dont know where i stand
so i'll kneel for you instead
in front of the world i beg
My love, return the love i said
but you must say no
for if your cards you show
comfort comes to stay
which surely in lust
i bid you, please trust
drives all passion away.

OK, now back to the essay, the sand is irritating my smoke free throat. 800 more words by noon tomorrow! Titty Biscuits.