Cherrypicked stories
Mr Malaprop in Love
oh well, a go at IPOW...
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- 2008 reads
The Fortune Teller
In the playground We gathered around the fortune teller With his flapping paper mouth, Pinched between anxious fingers.
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- 4 comments
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- 2740 reads
How High is the Moon
(edited, 22/09/08 with a thank you to jennifer, sunshine and Mori;-) Like schoolgirls we giggle, mad she calls me.
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- 18 comments
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- 6538 reads
It's Amazing Who Knows You When You're Down and Out
The other day (in a typical American city caught in a typical daydream) I got into a taxi-cab and started to tell the aging driver a humorous tale about a hobo I'd helped with a few dollars
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- 995 reads
The Life History of Guillermo Brown (Edit)
My Open Uni CW course has started; this is the first activity in the book, you get first para (that you change) choose from five titles then add some paras of your own...
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- 1817 reads
Poet
The whole thing is in your hands.
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- 2 comments
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- 1029 reads
Another Man's Treasure
A square peg in this dump-it-get-a-new-one age.
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- 10 comments
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- 3999 reads
Slip Skin
Slip skin (17th September, 2008, 1.15pm) I sharpen the carving knife, poise it above another life, make the first incision, and with the first blood drawn comes the knowledge that
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- 2516 reads
My Janky Renden Mind
Come hither drongal ryabean and show me your stigglyeye But curb thy rambunkcious nepatoire and sing bunjar 'You are You are' We'll dine at noon we'll joob and charn
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- 939 reads
The Ukulele Lady
In Burnley. A wet, Friday afternoon. October slate sky, and the car park is full. Kerbed on a backstreet, the ukulele lady. Applying lipstick, a cadet hat, for the lost boys in the room.
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- 658 reads
Every time I see a couple kissing in public I'll think of you and me on Princes Street
singing the Pogues at the top of our voices
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- 3 comments
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- 1626 reads
Orbital
Orbital (16th September, 2008, 2.39pm) When You approach, my heart rises and swells, blood bubbles to the surface, magnetised, wells like magma at the centre of a planet. Orbital.
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- 3 comments
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- 1965 reads
The phone
the phone lays silent on a pub table in the shadow of the pint protecting it embracing it yet it remains stubbornly silent taunting me with inactivity teasing me it's taking the piss
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- 1116 reads
ON THE SUBJECT OF YOUR LOVE
I don’t deserve your love.
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- 1 comment
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- 1108 reads
Tom
It was bound to happen. As a fresher at university, I had to develop a crush on somebody. Like during any other major transition in my life.
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- 2 comments
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- 1364 reads
Monday Sonnet: Sanctis
Damn lack of italics. Sanctis is meant to be italicised in the poem.
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- 3 comments
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- 1272 reads
Near Paddington
Dead in the house fire. Nineteen seventy two. A girl, six years old. No remains. Today. The Father. A man of sadness, age and rheumatism, celebrates her life. Walking streets,
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- 1693 reads
The Open Road
The silence of the night, so quiet you can hear every tremble of your heart. And the whisper of your wheels on the rain-wet road are secrets that just have to be shared.
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- 2 comments
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- 2062 reads
I Believe in Kaitlyn Gold
If your answers are yes, I look forward to hearing from you. If you are less than one hundred percent certain then good luck. You are still alone.
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- 5 comments
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- 2030 reads