‘The Rat Race’ means a race where, no matter how fast you run, you don’t get anywhere. I felt bad about the title because, I thought, it wasn’t a rat race at all, it was a People Race, and no sensible rats would ever do anything so foolish,’
Month: September 2023
Famous For 15 Days – The Life Of A Crane fly
You left the window open
So I came in
You had a light on
And it was warm.
You seem afraid
When I flutter
I do not mean
To frighten you.
I seem chaotic
Haphazard
Bouncing around
Just trying to find
Somewhere to land.
I hope we can
Co-exist peacefully.
Now, just a bit of back story
To make you less afraid.
Our larvae spend
Most of the year
In moist soil
We are food
For many animals.
We do not bite or sting
Or spread diseases.
When we do emerge
We don’t even have
Much time to eat.
We have between 10 and 15 days
To propagate the species
To love, to live
That time is precious
It’s like the lifetime
That you have.
In school playgrounds
Boys pulled off our legs
Our legs are decidious
Easily coming away
But even decidious legs
Shouldn’t be pulled away
I know that used to upset you.
We are born to fly
In open skies
I was out the other day
A cloudy, windy
September Day
When the author
Saw me in flight.
They exclaimed
It was so nice
To get a glimpse of us
Outside the confines
Of a building.
Hadn’t seen
A more graceful flyer.
It’s like we’re in slow motion
With an invisible parachute.
The author finally realised
How gentle we were
I’m glad.
Also, we don’t need to be famous.
See you next year.
Can We Go Now?
I’ve been here before in this space
Between a rock and a very hard place
I don’t want to stay
Like a rat in a corner
Trapped and alone
When there’s no way out
Can we go now?
That’s two hours I’ll never get back
And I think we should scarper
Can we go now?
I’m starting to feel out of whack
This thing’s run it’s course
Can we go now?
It all seemed like the perfect dream
Turned into a nightmare scene
Looking at that clock
I swear the hands never moved
Frozen in time
It’s like watching paint dry
Can we go now?
This isn’t fun, nor is quirky
A watched pot won’t boil
Can we go now?
You said we could leave by two thirty
Let us head for the hills
Can we go now?
I Am Alive
At first I was afraid
I was mortified
Kept thinking I could never live
Without my nine to five
But then, you put me in a home
You thought that you’d got rid of me
But I’ll be fine
It’s pay back time
So now just go
Walk out the door
You’ve locked me up now
Because I’m almost ninety four
Well, I’d rather go to bed
After t.v bingo game
If you don’t get out this instant
I’ll hit you with my zimmer frame
So yes, just go,
I’ll laugh the last
That nice male nurse will be due soon
To give another long bed bath
I cared for you- I gave you love
I gave you all my precious years
But now you happily ignore
All my tantrums and my tears
So just get out
Don’t try to weep
You put me out with all the rubbish
Threw me onto the scrap heap
But if you really want to cry
Look at my new will today
Because I’ve left every single penny
To the R.S.P.C.A
I am alive!
Quote of the Week
‘God’s children are not for sale.’
Quote of the Week
‘The thing is – fear can’t hurt you any more than a dream.’
August and September – A Conversation
SEPTEMBER: How are you today?
AUGUST: I’m fine. Just wondering why you stole my thunder.
SEPTEMBER: While you were taking drugs, raising hell, getting drunk, burning the candle at both ends, being highly dysregulated, I was…
AUGUST: I don’t do drugs.
SEPTEMBER: Well, while you were doing all those other other things, I was co-0rdinating, planning.
AUGUST: Oh yes, planning, in your unique narcissistic way.
SEPTEMBER: Don’t give me grief. I’m just a month.
AUGUST: I was the one doing all the hard work in the summer season to bring you to the point of were we are now. I was the one who was supposed to be balmy, but no, here you are, once again taking the credit for all my hard work.
SEPTEMBER: Due to unforeseen circumstances, I was indeed more balmy than I expected. I’m sorry if it has caused you distress.
AUGUST: You upstaged me.
SEPTEMBER: Again, it wasn’t planned.
AUGUST: Just before you said you were a planner. You can’t have it both ways.
SEPTEMBER: : ‘The best laid plans of mice and men’
AUGUST: I think you’re jealous. I think you sabotaged me.
SEPTEMBER: Well, you can think what you like. I am what I am.
AUGUST: September should not be like June or July…or August.
SEPTEMBER: But you’re not even like August and you are August. I’m not listening anymore to your crazy ramblings.
AUGUST: Ah, you just called me crazy. You’re gaslighting me!
SEPTEMBER: The fact remains, I brought the weather that you promised.
AUGUST: But you’re supposed to bring cooler fresher weather. Why can’t you be what you’re supposed to be? Why are you always aping me?
SEPTEMBER: While imitation is the sincerest form of flattery, believe me August, I have my own signature. I have no interest in being your type of weather. It was an accident. An oversight. An anomaly.
AUGUST: Those anomalies have been happening a lot lately.
SEPTEMBER: There’s room for us both. I didn’t set out to outdo you. It just happened. I’m sorry.
AUGUST: Big of you to apologise.
SEPTEMBER: I’ve apologized twice now. I won’t be doing it again. I’ve already tried to pull it back, the weather I mean.
AUGUST: Oh please, don’t feel you have to do so on my behalf. Wouldn’t want to hold you back. I want you to be the best version of yourself.
SEPTEMBER: The best version of myself is usually a bit cooler and fresher.
I never meant to make you feel bad.
AUGUST: Yeah, I bet.
SEPTEMBER: Friends?
AUGUST: As long as you don’t keep up this heatwave crap.
SEPTEMBER: I can’t promise, but I do believe the worst is over.
AUGUST: The best, you mean. The best is over.
SEPTEMBER: Thank you for saying so. I will try to do that whole cool, fresh September thing you’re used to, just for old times sake and because I love you.
AUGUST: What? What did you just say?
SEPTEMBER: Well, you know, I love you like a brother.
AUGUST: Yes, I get it. You always keep me in the friend zone. Unlike November.
SEPTEMBER: Leave November out of it.
AUGUST: Hit a nerve I see. Well, goodbye and good luck.
SEPTEMBER: See you same time next year?
AUGUST: Perhaps not. Perhaps I’ll be unseasonably cold.
SEPTEMBER: Oh no, not 1850 all over again. Come on August, stop sulking. You love me really.
AUGUST: I’ll let November do that.
SEPTEMBER: Doesn’t have your charm.
AUGUST: Bet you say that to all the months.
Things In My Head 