A Different Tune

I want to be that song.
The one that pops into your head
when you ought to be humming a different tune.
I want to be your skin and cover you up entirely.
I want to be exquisite energy in your body,
make you tick. Light up your eyes.
I want to be the sea around your swimmer
soak into all of you, draw you deep
I want to be the hand at your back
the hook of your smile,
a medicine for sadness,
put uncertainty to sleep.
I want to be the cat slipping softly 'round your legs
so let me purr and get my claws in.

Dear Sir,

Hey. I haven't been writing much lately and have been wanting to put something up here for a while. I recently had an unfortunate encounter in a dreadful mens' social club and wrote the below letter of complaint. Well, it's sort of creative writing, no?





Dear Sir,

I visited your establishment for the first time on the evening of 23rd September 2014. I had been assured by my associate of your good standing and favourable reputation.

On entering your premises and while ascertaining my surroundings, I must admit that I was not entirely prompt in removing my hat. I was remiss. Imagine my shock and consternation, however, when a fellow tapped me on the arm and told me to remove my headwear. Being an unfamiliar patron, you can surely imagine the humiliation I felt as a result of this. I estimate that I had not been across the threshold sixty seconds.

I can only assume that said fellow must have thought me vulgar or ungentlemanly but I cannot impose upon you enough the error of this conceit. I am incensed and aggrieved at the assumption that I should require educating in such etiquette, and as a result I cannot imagine ever gracing you with my custom again.

I note with some bemusement that your website promises 'a welcoming and friendly atmosphere'. May I respectfully suggest that this claim is removed as it is evidently not the case.

Yours sincerely,





I doubt I'll receive a reply but if I do, I'll post it. :)

Loser

You know that feeling of something you love
coming to the end you wished for
yet hoped would never come.
Today I felt that and thought of loss;
How it feels as though forgotten
is my writing and reading.
I hear nothing anymore but
the silence of the night,
hushed black and empty space,
my loss is forever grasping at a dream
and wishing I'd not woken.
Wishing for sleep and forgetfulness.
Looking for ladders and lying with snakes.
Resigned to an end but for that one
good, pure thing, holding me here,
saying what if? what if
there was a will or a way
and what if there was peace
peace from this waiting for the end.
You know that feeling when you're just so sick
but there are things to do.