Tag: September

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.

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.

I Thought It Was The End

I’m at the cinema and the movie is on, but when I look down, the popcorn is gone. People are leaving, the seats are all tipped, the soda and cola haven’t been sipped.

    Wait, I was dreaming, fell asleep you see, I don’t like thrillers, bore the pants off me. The film went on, forever it seemed, but I quite liked to think

    it was the end

    in my dreams.

    And then I went home to find kitten at play, with a ball of wool she’d had her eye on all day. The unravelled thread, I followed along, ‘soft, strong and very, very long’.

    Out in the garden, the wool did extend. It was just the beginning but I thought it was the end. While tracking the string, U.F.O fleet I spy, orange and red, in indigo sky. Aliens fly to me, with guns all aglow,

    the end is nigh, they say,

    in their own lingo.

    It’s war of the worlds, army from the stars, thought my number was up, invasion from Mars. I thought it was the end, intergalatic death ray?

    No.

    It’s just the World Firework Championship Display