Read

She feels stale breath and his fingers stroking her back she arches like a cat toning the morning to horror 'I love you' he whispers with a little pressure and something sharp painting the room red

A few nonsence poems inspired by 'The challenge' Help! There's a Frog in My Computer.

We bobbed round the edge of the brown water, looking for access. Waterlogged wooden pillars poked out and up over our heads, and in between there slid a recess of mud that sloped up to a possible route.

The park had always been a very quiet, peaceful place. Daisy walked through it on her way to work every day. It had been a week now since she was last here, she has been off work to deal with a few loose ends. The kind of loose ends that now mean that as she walks through the park she cant help but re evaluate everything. The old looking man who may only be 30 was still curled up on a bench. Rather than being frustrated and disgusted by him littering himself all over 'her' park, she felt warmth, and understanding. She pondered what could have brought him there.

He had been known as Beppe for so many years that he found it strange when the nurses called him Joe. At 73 he still didn't consider himself old and he was immensely frustrated by his body's inability to keep up with his still lightening fast brain. He couldn't complain in a way, he'd had a good life: as a circus clown he'd travelled the length and breadth of the country, met so many people, and had thrived on the adrenaline of entertaining.

Life's weight is full...

(This is a true story and a work in progress. Mark is now in Rampton high security hospital 'At her majesty's pleasure.' Surely one of the most chilling phrases in the English language. Mark.

I got yanked up and scraped over the low wall next to the towpath, spun round and put back on my feet, then looked up into the face of Ralph. "What the fuck do you want? he growled.

Still before battle, The giant slayer, petite No modesty leaf.