773 - Early Morning

Early Morning

Early morning
Gloom hangs heavy
She's standing up
— I had to use the spray
That makes no sense
— My jaw hurt
xxxAnd my chest was tight
xxxI used the spray
xxxMy pulse was racing
xxxIt’s better now
She sits on the side of the bed
Bent over
Hugging a pillow
— What time is it?
xxxAbout five
xxxNo, what time is it exactly?
xxxFour fifty nine
The penny drops
— Use the spray they had said
xxxIf the pain doesn’t stop
xxxIn five minutes
xxxCall an ambulance
She’s waiting
— It’s easing now
She lies down
And sleeps
I lie beside her
Wide awake

 .

© J Cosmo Newbery 2014

Christmas 2014

772 - The Silly Season

Three Word Wednesday requires participants

to use the three words of the week in a composition.

The words this week were: alive, glaring, and misty.

The Silly Season

In a time of tinsel and of elves

The Press is pretty smitten.

Headlines shout, in glaring font,

Of folk with guns.  And kittens.

Perhaps, in their misty mental voids,

They dream to mesh the two—

Longing for gun tottin’ catty types,

Who (bonus points) are fond of vindaloo.

At a time when just being alive

Is a blessing we can use,

Should we really concern ourselves

With what passes for the news? 

 .

---

© J Cosmo Newbery 2014

---

771 - The Dismissal

Three Word Wednesday requires participants

to use the three words of the week in a composition.

The words this week (well really last week,

there have been distractions) were: blunt, drunk, and lethargic.

The Dismissal

Is it the case, 

In this modern world,

That courtesy and attention

Are suspect and derided?

That simple respect is dismissed 

With a lethargic wave of the hand

And a bluntly delivered “Whatever”?

Where are our manners?

What are we thinking?

Are we so removed from the 

Niceties of a truly civil society 

That we are immune to politeness?

Or are we so embarrassed by it

As to enquire as to the sobriety 

Of the unfortunate person

As if they must be drunk

To be polite?

That to show

Consideration or concern 

Is not the act of a person

In control of their own actions?

 .

---

© J Cosmo Newbery 2014

---

770 - Corrupting a Miner

Three Word Wednesday requires participants

to use the three words of the week in a composition.

The words this week were: compact, jubilant, and neglected.

Corrupting a Miner

Deathbed confessions of Mr Faust, Industrialist.

“There’s something I neglected to tell you;

It’s a trifling little thing,

But you probably need to know of it,

Before the death bells ring.

I made a compact with the Devil

And traded off my soul,

And in return he gave to me 

Vast reserves of coal.

I dug it up and shipped it out

As is an owner’s right.

The shareholders were all jubilant 

And danced into the night.

There were those who whinged about the smoke

And the supposed nasty fumes,

But they, like me, could have moved away

To a house of twenty rooms.

But now I’ve reach my twilight time

I feel a slight remorse:

If I’d dug it up twice as fast,

I’d die twice as rich, of course.

There’s a consequence of my actions,

Which gave the Devil mirth,

Having sold my soul for eternity,

I’ve bequeathed you Hell on Earth.

.

---

© J Cosmo Newbery 2014

---

769 - Our Country

Three Word Wednesday requires participants

to use the three words of the week in a composition.

The words this week were: fiery, notorious and toxic.

Our Country

There’s the fear of snakes and spiders,

And all the nasty things,

Like Portuguese ‘Men of War’,

With their paralyzing stings.

And the fear of red-back spiders

Beneath the toilet seat

They make ablutions a fraught affair—

To dump and then retreat.

I shun the toxic mushrooms

And the notorious Great White shark,

Or the crocodiles that can be found

Within our national parks.

I dread to meet with bull-ants,

Or the wasps, whose sting is rotten,

And Sea Urchins who sound so sweet,

But once met are not forgotten.

There's drab and oil-filled eucalypts

All crispy in the sun,

Waiting for that wayward spark

To let the firestorm run.

But for all the noxious wildlife,

And the fiery dispositions,

The things that scare me most of all

Are our right-wing politicians.

.

---

© J Cosmo Newbery 2014

---

768 - Old Flames

Old Flames

Where do flames go, after they die?

They, who glowed to brightened our day,

Just disappear with scant ‘good-bye’—

Where do they go when they go away?

Is there a divide they must traverse?

Lingering briefly as a wisp of white

To swirl and twist and then disperse,

Like ghosts that slip into the night.

Where do flames go when they go out?

They were so real, with warmth and grace,

It’s hard to think they are not about,

They must live on in some other place.

But our Heaven wont suit them well—

Perhaps old flames just collect in Hell.

.

---

© J Cosmo Newbery 2014

---

767 - The Outlook

Sunday Whirl (Wordle #185) presents a list of words

that we must incorporate in a writing piece.  

The words this week are:

standing, satisfied, burn, jaded, spark, rain

way, sun, cold, grey, joy, slash

The Outlook

The boards

Of the old verandah,

The one his father built,

Are loose and curled.

He has been standing there

For some time,

Watching,

Watching the land,

Watching the sky,

Watching in a way

That only farmers do.

Some days are cold and grey

But the rains don’t fall

Others break records,

Either way

Both break hearts.

There is no joy

There is nothing 

To spark hope

For the next season.

The rains of yesteryear

No longer come.

He stands there,

Watching,

His dams are drying,

His flock are dying.

What light rains fall

Do more harm than good—

Sprouting seeds

Only to see 

The next day’s sun 

Burn them,

Turn them in to crisp,

Parodies of grass.

With nothing to hold them,

The soils blow away

In rolling,

Tumbling,

Dust clouds.

His family

Built this farm

They ploughed,

They slashed,

They tended to sheep,

And sunk posts 

Into rocky soil.

They cared for what they had.

Now, jaded, despairing,

He stands on the verandah

In the shade,

Watching,

As it all cracks

And dries,

And blows away.

Meanwhile,

Miles away,

In air-conditioned offices,

Coalminers

Are satisfied


With this year’s profits
And the short term outlook.

.

---

© J Cosmo Newbery 2014

---

766 - Yes, I Remember.

Three Word Wednesday requires participants

to use the three words of the week in a composition.

The words this week were: blood, cripple and lurk.

Yes, I remember.

In Canberra, 

There is only one show,

A blood sport above all others, 

Where socially crippled MPs,

Spawned from unwed mothers,

Debate dull matters 

Like state decrees.

You can’t really call it work.

As soft and cushy jobs go,

It’s a pretty good lurk.

.

---

© J Cosmo Newbery 2014

---

765 - The Psychic

Sunday Whirl (Wordle #183) presents a list of words

that we must incorporate in a writing piece.  

The words this week are:

shine, crazy, diamond, martyr, seer, secret,

laughter, prisoner, childhood, steel, stranger, shadow

The Psychic

She sat quietly, reflectively.

She could see what was coming.

Around her a small crowd had gathered.

A man, a farmer, speaks up: 

“Tell us", he asks, "of the seasons.”

The sun will shine but ever more so,

The earth will crack and dry;

Even shadows will be crisp and hot,

The crops will wilt and die.

The crowd murmured anxiously,

Unhappy with her words.

A woman asked 

“Will there be wealth?”

You will have enormous wealth,

Diamonds, gold and silken thread,

But none of this will feed you,

And you’ll die both rich and underfed.

The woman called her crazy 

And stormed away in pain,

While a nervous laughter 

Rippled through the crowd.

A soldier stepped forward.  

“And what of us, defenders of the realm?”

She was quiet a while before she spoke.

You are a martyr to another’s dream,

A pawn on a checkered board;

It’s no secret that you are used

For the benefit of our lords.

A small child then asked, nervously

“What of me?  What do you see for me?”

Your childhood is an illusion

Your future even more so;

You will forever be a prisoner 

To the will of the status quo.

Finally, a stranger to the village spoke up.

“Is there anything to give us hope?”

She looked at him blankly before saying:

Will the people steel themselves

To take control of their daily things?

Will they tackle the issues

And bear the pain this brings?

Probably not, 
she added, underneath her breath.

The crowd, unhappy with the message,

Regardless of its truth,

Then beat the seer to death.

.

---

© J Cosmo Newbery 2014

---

764 - Post-Mortem

Three Word Wednesday requires participants

to use the three words of the week in a composition.

The words this week were: gifted, intense and rot.

Post-Mortem

When, at last, the veil is lifted

On the stewardship we’ve shown,

When the rot is all dissected,

When the true neglect is known,

The inquest 

Will attest:

“Connected but intensely unaware.

To them, a paradise was gifted,

But they didn’t seem to care."

.

---

© J Cosmo Newbery 2014

---

763 - On The Other Hand

Sunday Whirl (Wordle #182) presents a list of words

that we must incorporate in a writing piece.  

The words this week are:

machine, flesh, tease, lotion, gimmick, hypnotizing,

lust, chickens, torture, uniform, liquor, brains, trains

On The Other Hand

There are machines that take our jobs

But do ones that have been fatal to children in the past.

Whores sell their flesh

But some use the money to educate and feed their family.

Advertisers tease us

But commerce is what pays for our jobs.

The cosmetics industry sells fake lotions

But placebos have been shown to work.

Every week there is a new gimmick

But we crave variety and change.

We are hypnotized by affluence

But few can really achieve it.

We are expected to lust for more

But we live in a finite world.

We imprison people

But demand chickens be released from their cages.

We are promised uniform opportunity

But the promise is never kept.

We are told we over-consume liquor

But have seen the effects of prohibition.

Our brains are used to devise evil things

But they devise miraculous things as well.

The media trains us to be compliant

But we sometimes rebel when we see a wrong.

We take firm ‘moral’ stands on every issue

But refuse to consider the value of the other side.

.

---

© J Cosmo Newbery 2014

---

762 - A Class Act

Three Word Wednesday requires participants

to use the three words of the week in a composition.

The words this week were: arrogant, crude and supple.

A Class Act

There is a certain elegance, 

A certain je ne sais quoi 

In everything they do.

An aloofness 

That is not so much arrogant 

As disdainful;

A presentation to the world 

That is one of entitlement

A regal stance that oozes class 

And separates the social strata.

They walk with a fluidity, 

With a liquid motion 

That captivates, hypnotises.  

There is nothing crude about them, 

They are a quality act.

They display a suppleness 

In their actions and, indeed, 

In their personal hygiene that, 

If extended to teenage boys, 

No homework would ever be done.

.

---

© J Cosmo Newbery 2014

---

761 - The Expedition

Sunday Whirl (Wordle #181) presents a list of words

that we must incorporate in a writing piece.  

The words this week are:

sense, speech, sheets, goblets, signs, vital,

name, broken, away, strips, connected, poem

The Expedition

The word had reached the Empire

Of riches far away;

Of spices, gold and willing girls,

Of reindeer and a sleigh,

The vital signs that are required

For a mercenary foray.

The expedition was assembled,

Five bankers had been found,

Endless speeches had been given,

The boat they had was sound,

They filled its hold with puddings,

Rejecting those not round.

The sails were sheets of onion skins

Cut  into even strips,

The ballast was unbroken plates

Though some of them had chips,

And a passing poet was shanghaied,

To record the epic trip.

The captain was a cantaloupe,

The crew, a herd of sheep,

The first mate was a three-toed sloth

And spent the day asleep;

The cook was known to drink a bit

And predisposed to weep.

The bosun was well connected,

His father was an earl,

Who’d sent his son off to the sea

To teach him of the world,

But couldn’t dampen his inner love

Of dressing like a girl.

They charged their goblets and raised a toast,

They named the ship ‘Ptomaine’,

The crew all sensed the moment too

And tried to break their chains,

They then sailed into the setting sun

And were never seen again.

.

---

© J Cosmo Newbery 2014

---

760 - Left Luggage

Three Word Wednesday requires participants

to use the three words of the week in a composition.

The words this week were: barren, worry and intense.

Left Luggage

Waiting for God with a vacant stare

Your mind has wandered who knows where.

You have long lost your early bloom

And now test-drive an early tomb.

It’s not exactly intensive care—

They hose you down and comb your hair

And leave you strapped into a chair

In a sparsely furnished room,

Waiting for God.

“You’ll have no worries” they declare

But quietly hope that they wont go there

They leave you there to meet your doom

And never share the twilight gloom,

Life’s a pretty barren affair,

Waiting for God.

.

---

© J Cosmo Newbery 2014

---

759 - The Schooling

A posey of flowers marks the spot where ashes

of drowned asylum seekers were scattered.

Sunday Whirl (Wordle #180) presents a list of words

that we must incorporate in a writing piece.  

The words this week are: 

posey, ashes, flames, sticks, lot, fear, 

love, discernment, polarize, identity, selfless, joy

The Schooling

Love comes naturally.

Everything fascinates babies,

Without discernment,

Without prejudice.

Every new experience is filled

With lots of joy and delight.

This is how we arrive:

Selfless.

◊◊◊

Fear is learned.

Fear is taught.

Sometimes through 

The blistering flames of experience

But all too often through the 

Whispering innuendos 

Of tribal groupings:

My people versus your people,

Age, race, colour, gender

All needless labels that send a

Message of stereotype and difference.

Vilification sticks.

Humanity is denied.

◊◊◊

Those who would control us

Know this all too well.

Politicians, advertisers,

Media owners of all types,

Tap into this contrived identity,

Polarize our groups

With the sticks and carrots 

Of fear and envy,

Orchestrated

For their own ends,

A discordant ensemble

Of dog whistles.

Obediently we react,

Stay in our compounds

And bark at strangers.

.

---

© J Cosmo Newbery 2014

---

758 - Alternative Medicine

Theme Thursday has the prompt 'Apples'.

On the walls of a house of delight

Hangs a motto both pithy and bright—

"While an apple a day

Keeps the doctor away,

A nice pair will help pass the night."

.

---

© J Cosmo Newbery 2014

---

757 - A Reflection on Life’s Parasites.

Pthirus pubis

Three Word Wednesday requires participants

to use the three words of the week in a composition.

The words this week were: adequate,explosive & parasite.

A Reflection on Life’s Parasites.

Life is full of parasites.

Some suck your blood,

Some your lifeblood.

Some graze on your extremities

While others are more invasive,

A little more personal.

Some arrive unannounced and,

Often unnoticed, never leave.

We have an adequate lot in life,

Enough to share perhaps,

And they are usually small, flat and largely hidden.

Some make their presence known with the odd tickle,

An itch perhaps, but we learn to live with them,

Are they co-mensal if you are the dinner?

Perhaps not but fellow travellers, none the less,

And we are a tolerant people.

Others arrive benignly, almost welcomed,

And, like a Trojan Horse, un cheval de troie,

They bide their time quietly grazing

Until ready to show their explosive intent,

And then they unexpectedly rupture,

Disgorging malice and toxins

Into your world.  Quite puzzling.

I have never understood

Why a parasite would

Kill its host.

.

---

© J Cosmo Newbery 2014

---

756 - Beagle II

Sunday Whirl (Wordle #179) presents a list of words

that we must incorporate in a writing piece.  

The words this week are: 

live, give, heart, gold, expression, searching,

old, ocean, mind, keep, miner, crossed

Beagle II

The craft touched down with a puff of smoke

It had travelled from distant stars;

Its hold was filled with a million and two

Specimens, in large blue jars.

It had crossed the visible universe

Searching for sentient life:

To record their numbers in a ledger of sorts,

And dissect them, with a knife.

And so they came to this blue-brown globe,

Across the oceans of deep space,

To count and catalogue it’s brighter minds,

To see who ran this place.

What was clear to them when they searched around

Was the jungle now owned the city:

Cockroaches, ants and some scaly things,

Made up the welcoming committee.

They approached an old temple of sorts

With gold leaf upon the door;

“It seems place where they burnt their coal

And a miner who wanted more”.

The ship’s scientists were amazed at this,

“Surely they had noticed the sun?

It’s a power source that gives and gives,

There’s free energy by the ton.”

The expression displayed on the leader’s face

Was one of shock and doubt:

“Well, I guess all signs of intelligent life

Died when the coal ran out.”

The cockroaches were most offended, of course, 

To be so rudely sidelined:

“We have far exceeded those men of old,

We have a heart, we have a mind”.

The crew were getting rather restless now

They moaned “This place is far too hot.

It’s like living in a bloody greenhouse,

Let find a better spot!”

And so they filed back on board their ship,

To continue their collecting;

In one lone blue jar, kept in the hold below,

Was a cockroach, for dissecting.

.

---

© J Cosmo Newbery 2014

---

755 - The Birthday Girl

This started out in the meter of

'Mary had a little lamb' but lost its way.

The Birthday Girl

Billie had a little cake,

It had a lovely taste;

And every bit that Billie ate

Built up upon her waist.

It had a single candle,

To celebrate the day;

She couldn’t do ‘one per year’

Without the fire brigade.

She celebrated through the night

As only she was able;

Next morning, when she woke up

She was underneath the table.

She was lying there beside a sheep,

Whose fleece was white as snow;

Mary lay beside her too,

And was not inclined to go.

The sheep was far less certain,

And feared it was main course.

Well-founded, as it turned out,

When roasted, with mint sauce. 

Mary thought it fitting

That the event was caught in rhyme,

So let it be now recorded

That they had a spanking time.

..

---

© J Cosmo Newbery 2014

---

754 - When They Are Gone

Three Word Wednesday requires participants

to use the three words of the week in a composition.

The words this week were: breezy, hairy and monstrous.

I hadn’t planned to contribute this week but things changed.

When they are gone

On hearing that a friend’s son had suicided.

The black dog lives at their address,

Rabid, hairy, and teasing relentless—

They hope that it will disappear

When they are gone.

They teeter closer than they will admit

On the edge of some monstrous pit,

They hope the pain will just fade away

When they are gone.

A breezy front is oft’ displayed

When an exit plan’s been made

Seldom seen but, oh, so clear

When they are gone.

That awful day when they submit

Is far from being the end of it.

The black dog’s load is shared around

When they are gone.

.

---

© J Cosmo Newbery 2014

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753 - The Skewed World of Smoking Joe.

I don’t often mix prompts but this week they seemed to fit together:

Sunday Whirl (Wordle #178) gave us 

hospital, tests, anxiety, fluff, words, ouch,


pester, blood, know, meal, center, jello

And Three Word Wednesday gave us:

geek, carcass and slash

The Skewed World of Smoking Joe.

Treasurers come and Treasurers go

But few are as reviled as Smoking Joe.

He smokes cigars, he drive flash cars,

The poor and weak are his natural foe.

His ministry is full of geeks

Who give his dream its lethal tweaks,

They will tear apart our social heart

To make the feudal land he seeks.

He slashes back all progress made

His final goal is to just downgrade,

He tests each thing for the tax it will bring:

Is Jello a food or a wrestling aid?

He has no feel for what’s at stake;

His choice of words—a big mistake:

“Should the poor have a car, they don't drive it very far”

Like “if they need a meal, then why not cake?”

The hospitals are filled with anxious folk

Who do not share the fat man’s joke.

But they’ll disappear this financial year

When hospital funding goes up in smoke. 

The sick and old, in their desperate plight,

Do not pester his sleep at night.

He wishes them away, in a cold-blooded sort of way,

Just stack the carcass out of sight.

Joe says that we must be very tough

To rid our life of its social fluff,

We are just little workers, making cash for the jerkers

Who never learnt how to say ‘enough’.

Self-centred and quite proudly so,

Determined to reframe the status quo,

Stuff the poor, the rich need more,

Such is the world of Smoking Joe.

.

---

© J Cosmo Newbery 2014

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752 - The Dream Seeder

Sunday Whirl (Wordle #177) presents a list of words

that we must incorporate in a writing piece.  

The words this week are: 

horses, signal, bullets, thrust, plant, dismal,

edge, spot, rose, locks, ball, meandering

The Dream Seeder

Father’s Day 2014.

It is late.

The bed is warm.

He sits beside me.

His tone alternates between conspiratorial and alarming.

His words, exotic and alive, paint a picture.  Pictures.

The wild.

The fanciful.

The instructive.

The richly embroidered tales of adventure, 

tales of love and derring-do,
meandering at times, exciting always,
where proud Arabian horses stand tall, nostrils flaring, scanning the desert air for assassins, where writhing, serpentine plants spiral to the heavens, through the giant-dwelling clouds, to where a goose sits, patiently twitching her golden sphincter, where small girls with golden curls dream of leaving their dismal cinder-full, sister-full drudgery for the rose-petalled, glass-shoed bliss of the Prince’s Ball, where wicked, warty witches, living in confectionery cottages far from the forest’s edge, waiting to lock small wandering children in even smaller cages, to fatten them and eat them (can you spot the message here?), where tassllated cowboys in white hats gallop, firing from guns in both hands, bullets that always find their targets, as they gallop across the wild, wide savannas to rescue the beleaguered fort, where gnarled old sailors, led by a courageous, young captain, battle seas rife with one-legged, ear-ringed, parrot-toting pirates and large, one eyed, long tentacle creatures, in search of the “X” that always marks the spot.

These are the stories of the twilight.

These are the seeds of dreams.

.

---

© J Cosmo Newbery 2014

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751 - The Lesson

Three Word Wednesday requires participants

to use the three words of the week in a composition.

The words this week were: bribery, clobber & skeptical.

The Lesson.

Silver tongued vixens 

Will clobber

Many an unwary 

Young man;

Seducing

With their exotic charms

They do it because they can—

They cavort,

A bribery

Of sorts.

Alarms

Should ring out

From the hills

“Be sceptical

Of the life robber

Who trades

In low carnal thrills”.

.

---

© J Cosmo Newbery 2014

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750 - The Anti-Killing

The Anti-Killing.

He performed so poorly in bed

She decided to poison his bread.

While cyanide was intended,

A Viagra was vended

And she actually raised up the dead.

.

---

© J Cosmo Newbery 2014

---

749 - A Rather Odd Taste

Mad Kane has a weekly limerick challenge.

She provides the first line,

The rest is up to us.

The meal had a rather odd taste,

Rather like marzipan paste.

It lead to the demise

Of a number of guys

Whose affections were badly misplaced.

.

---

© J Cosmo Newbery 2014

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748 - The Demimonde

Sunday Whirl (Wordle #174) presents a list of words

that we must incorporate in a writing piece.  

The words this week are: 

demimonde, candle, grand, oranges, abomination, allegiance,


transgression, asylum, myself, rites, Africa, reborn, gray.

The Demimonde.

noun: a class of women who have lost their standing 

in respectable society because of indiscreet behavior 

or sexual promiscuity.

Sultry, primitive, inviting,

With her ‘come and spend the night’ in 

Looks and demeanour,

Sophisticated, in a worldly sense,

Rings, curtains, candles,

Aromas that betray their allegiance

To the most basic of desires:

Orange, cinnamon, musk.

She speaks to the core of humanity

That is an abomination to the puritans,

The same ones who queue at her door, at dusk.

Sultry, primitive, inviting,

Echoing the fertility rites and acts

Practiced since the gray dawn of time,

Since we walked out of Africa,

Born and reborn,

To face death, 

Real and petite,

There has been a desire to meet.

This is not a transgression,

Just a brief asylum.

A meeting of minds,

And bodies.

Complete.

And then composure, 

Without remorse.

A part of the grand cycle of life.

Sultry, primitive, inviting.

I wouldn’t go there myself, 

Of course.

.

---

© J Cosmo Newbery 2014

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