A Poem a Day Rip-Offs

Image courtesy of Pixabay.com How can I shout my thoughts to the world, when trapped in my passage is something unfurled? Christmas is over - that much is true, so why can't I shift, then, my arse off the loo? Year's not done - I must see the end - so where is the bog roll that should be my friend? With laughter, I rise - pants at my knees, but a blast of cold air, alas, makes me sneeze. How can I hobble - hunt down a roll - my knees stuck together by poo with no soul?  The New Year is here - that much is true, JUST CHUCK US SOME BOG ROLL, IF STUCK IN THE QUEUE! Copyright owned by Jay Cool , December 2018 Inspired by Ella Wheeler Wilcox's poem,  'The Year' .

The floods are coming to mark an end to my break - to dream days in my terraced cabin. I heed the neighbour's warnings and move on out, lingering on wood-slatted patio - watching the last one leave. Still time, I think, to step back in - still time to gather up my things - my pencils, brushes and notebooks. Still time to float. Feet dangling, I sit on patio edge, dipping my toes into salty-water waves slapping. I'm floating. Copyright owned by Jay Cool Inspired by 'Portraitures & Erasures' by Chiwan Choi. Image from Pixabay.com (Creative Commons).

'Sleepy Sitter' by Jay Cool How 'tis to be - by soft brush swiped with chocolate shades of Christmas; to feel one's cheeks, once so milk-white, wiped out - by melted orange? Copyright owned by Jay Cool, December 2018 Inspired by the poem 'False but Beautiful' by John Rolin Ridge.