The Word Cloud

Poems aren't my forte but this is one for my wee cat, who sadly passed on a few weeks ago.
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 INKY

You were on a South Belfast street, dignified and handsome,

You paid me no attention and I smiled.

I chatted to your humans and agreed to take you home,

Wrapped up in a towel, 'cause you're so wild.

 

You had a good explore and I knew that we'd be friends,

I could see it in your wary, wide-eyed stare.

Sure enough, my lie-ins very quickly disappeared

As I woke at dawn to find you standing there,

On my chest,

I'd had enough rest, now it's time for breakfast once again.

Then outside to see the birds and enjoy the morning air,

I had your towel waiting if I thought that it might rain.

 

We had three years of snuggles, of purrs and kneads and mews,

Some yowls and growls and scratches, a little bite or two,

But every time I saw you, a smile brightened up my brain

And I never could wait to get back home to you again.

 

Now you're no longer here, though you're always in my heart,

If you're always in my thoughts, we'll never truly be apart.

I hope we'll be reunited, one day, when I'm gone

Until then I love and miss you, my little furry one.

Skip is recovering remarkably well.  Considering it's Sunday and his operation only happened Wednesday.

Most of the time he's behaving with the lampshade on, but occasionally he's getting grumpy and frustrated at not being able to remove it.  I'm hoping that the tenderness on the side of his head continues to prevent him from risking the removal of the lampshade.

It is a lovely lampshade collar it has to be said, it is padded on both edges and is a clip action so very easy to put on and take off.

It is funny to watch him scrape along the brick walls in the back garden then, when trying to pee at his usual plant pot places, flowers get caught in the lampshade and he gets a face full of labelia.

As soon as I get the photos of Skippy onto my computer I'll post them on here for all to see.

Thanks again for the well wishes.

love to everyone
Nibs
:o)

Word Count: 920 Title: MY BRAVE DOG SKIPPY Author: By Gaynor Andrews The Adventures of Skippy the loveable Parsons Russell began with me 6 years ago last April. He was spotted huddled in a cage in Penarth Road dog pound looking very pitiful in his little cage, one of many that spanned the length of a wall and many of which were stacked 3 stories high. Such was the over crowding at that particular time. He was being treated for flea and tic infestation. He faced the wall with his back to the world and everyone in it. Everyone passed him by, except me. 6 years on we've been through a lot. We've taught each other many things. He's taught me tolerance, strength and how to take charge to become a good pack leader, while I like to think I've taught him manners, how to behave and lots of tricks besides. A couple of weeks ago, he began to show signs that he wasn't well. Very suddenly in July an enormous lump grew out of his ear, so large that it totally filled his ear like an over-sized earplug. Having made a few visits to the vet, he was then booked in for an operation to remove the growth. I dropped him at Cardiff Park Vets where they were far more equipped than their Pontypridd surgery early Wednesday morning and left him there while I made my way to work. 11am I received a phone call from the surgeon to explain the seriousness of the growth. That its root was far deeper than anticipated and removing it would be an enormous and tricky job. Remembering his age and where the growth is the surgeon explained to me that if she deemed it too much for him to cope with, she would call me while he was asleep on the table and ask if I wanted him woken up. Admittedly here, I was painfully slow on the uptake of what she was saying. The shock of what she was saying sunk in the moment the penny dropped. After which I said, yes, it's only his ear and I explained I have absolute faith in her, that she would do what was needed. But she was to wake him. Wednesday, I was in no-mans land and grateful for the lack of work on my desk. After that phone conversation I struggled to contain my emotions in front of work colleagues and so went out to my car and cried buckets. Later, sat at my desk… I knew the moment he'd gone into surgery. I knew because not even I had realised until then, how strong our bond is. My solar plexus went screwy and to prevent my panicking any further I immediately phoned the vets and enquired what was happening to Skippy. The receptionist, after leaving me waiting on the phone for just a short time, returned and informed me he was on the table and being operated on. In my head, I found myself at the operating table stood slightly over the surgeon as she worked. I visually watched her opening up his ear and expertly with the greatest of care cutting in to remove the growth. I watched as she found she needed to go even deeper than she first expected to. Eventually, she had cut part of the ear away. After a while, sat in the back room to my office doing my best to concentrate on marking off my engine packs against my list, I had a vision of Skippy running in and jumping around me as I was sat on my stool, and felt he was telling me in all his excitement, 'It's gone, It's gone. When you coming to get me?' So in my thoughts I told him I would be there soon, but he was to rest and sleep in the mean time. 2pm The moment I chose to use the landline phone to call the vets was the same moment they chose to phone my mobile and explain how well it had all gone. The surgeon was so pleased with how the operation had gone and how well he was when he came-to. Poor dab! When I collected him, I was a bit startled by the fluorescent pink bandage wrapped round his head. (That won't do his street cred' any favours I thought'). But he's come through it, he's alive and well on the grumpy road to recovery. I think he truly appreciated the cuddles and soft voice of my sister as she held him in her arms on the back seat of my car as I drove us home. 2 days later, Friday, we visited the vets in Pontypridd and they removed the pink bandage. The vet explained more thoroughly what they had done. Apparently the root of the growth was so solidly packed into his vertical ear canal that they had to remove that part of the canal itself. But, he will still be able to hear through the horizontal canal through a small hole at the side of his head. To look at it, I think it's an exceptionally fine piece of work and I was grateful for the opportunity to thank the surgeon for her good work. To end, this was a scary week in July for Skip and for me. I think he's such a brave little soul and everyone, not only me, loves him dearly. So much so, that by the time we arrived home Wednesday after his operation, he'd already received a get well card. Nibs

Saturday 9:30am it's drizzling
but still I here the charming melodies
of garden birds calling away
From the window where I sit
I can see out onto the street
All is quiet except for the odd fluttering
and the familiar cheery face
of the postman doing his rounds
as a yappy dog sees him on his way

The recognisable clatter of my letterbox
Followed by the flipping, flapping, flop
of letters falling on to my tiled floor
I rise from my chair to retrieve them
White envelopes and a variety of junk mail
No difference there then
Just how  long ago was it
Since I last received a cheery hello,
miss you, thankyou, love you?

I blame it all on modern technology of course
Never did I think I too would be entangled by the web
Too old now for that
my schooling long since passed
But no, slowly I get caught up into emails
Facebook, Twitter and the likes
Being pretty housebound it brought me company
I/we made new friends together
And now look forward to my newer daily mailbox

Even with computer progression the unwanted mail comes
Not the bills, reminders nor bank
They're mainly formalities with direct debits anyway
But scammers and unwanted advertisers
That push their way into your home
no matter how you try to block them
So desperate are they to clench a deal
In this climate of recession
Where so many have no work

Drenched trees emptied their heavy loads with each overly frequent gust. The midnight sky was shrouded by crying clouds and lit aflame by sparks of light. Dennis stood, shoulders hunched, head bowed and covered by a black hoodie. His body felt frozen from the rain. He stood in the garden, hands against the window, forehead feeling the fresh sting of cool glass. Tonight it ends, all the torment, all the pain. He thought these words as his breath came out in a fog like substances, dirtying the clear windowpane. Inside the house she went off to bed.

Lindsay smiled; her reflection always sprouted an upturn of her lips. She pulled different faces, testing the looks, as she brushed her long blond hair. Her blue eyes sparkled with that innocent hope of the youth who’s only seen the soft padded walls of the dream world society prays for.
“Tomorrows a new day TimTim, maybe he’ll take us somewhere special” her tone was bright and bubbly as if concentrated cheerleader had been pumped into her vocal chords. Her words had been addressed to the raggedy bear her ex had given as a token of affection; he was long gone now though. She smiled as she picked up the bear and headed from her bathroom to her bedroom. Lindsay always loved sleep, she got to see more of her boyfriend in her dreams, she loved him so much, she hated being parted for even a second.

Dennis had watched her brush her hair then head up the stairs; she hadn’t realized that with the door open one could see directly into the bathroom, even into the shower. Dennis’s fists curled as the rage from all his denied hopes and dreams had flowed forth from the attractive woman he’d just been watching. God how I’ve come to hate you Lindsay, and to think I wanted to marry you. The angry mental mumblings sped through his mind, reassuring him his actions tonight would be the only way to salvation. The rain still fell like the cries of a child persistently begging for candy, he was glad to escape it as he let himself in through the back door. He knew she always forgot to lock it, her cat barley stirred, so used to his silhouette. He stilled himself before taking to the task.

Her breath came out in one large content sigh, joy was possibly the only adjective to describe the feeling capturing her body. She wriggled under the pink covers, her head resting on a purple pillow and her body filling that well worn space in the mattress. Today she had gone with her lover to work, then they’d seen a film, she’d laughed so hard at it, finally they’d had a nice dinner at the local restaurant. He’d had to rush away to catch his train but Lindsay couldn’t care if his goodbye was mediocre, the time they spend together was fantastical. She closed her eyes, ready for a blissful slumber.

Dennis pulled the gun from his waist band; the bitter chill of the metal re-awoke his numbing mind. With his free hand he pulled back his hoodie. He wanted to look the traitorous bitch in the eyes when she died. He shook his short brown hair, water droplets mirroring their original descent onto his head. The brown eyes inside his skull were shining with all the betrayal and hate Lindsay had stirred in him. Dennis firmly ascended the stairs, pausing for the briefest moment at her bedroom door.

“Wake up Lindsay” the harsh words were spoken loud enough to beat the thunder and pouring water outside but their octavo height was not yet that of yelling. She awoke with a start, an indrawn breath of panic however the voice suddenly registered, she threw the covers off and jumped from her bed.
“Denny!” She was so excited, her lover had come to spend the night, she stepped forward to embrace him, only stopped by the lighting illuminating the evil metal in his hand.
“Why do you have a gun Denny?” Her tone was still as enthusiastic and innocent as always, seemingly oblivious to why Dennis was there.
“Lindsay, this ends tonight, everything your fucking doing to me!” He was mad, enraged at just how delusional she was.
“But we had such a lovely day?” her words sounded hurt and perplexed, like a puppy that having brought in a dead bird as a gift receives a disgusted smack from its owner.
“Oh really? You call stalking me at work and telling my boss we’re married. Then following me into a film in which you spend the entire time shouting comments about it to me from across the theatre and finally trailing me into subway to spend your entire time watching me eat. You call that a lovely day?” his voice was beginning to shake, he was remembering how she had chased every other girl away, how shed lost him jobs and gotten him kicked out of places, all because she couldn’t let go.
“Well you did rush off at the end, but don’t worry I’m not mad. Now come on, lets go to bed” She genuinely offered these words apparently struck deaf to any reality but her own. Dennis leveled the gun as she inched towards him.
“Lindsay you stupid cow, I cant go on with you wrecking my life, just because you cant accept we’re over” her retaliation to his words never came for the moment her mouth began to phrase the first phoneme he fired the pistol. Her body tumbled backwards, her brains plastered the bedroom wall, her blood soaked into the 100% cotton sheets.
“Why couldn’t you just leave me be?! Why couldn’t you understand that I broke up with you?!” He angrily shouted theses words, stepping towards her, looking down at her, glaring, hating her more for what she was now forcing him to do. He placed the gun in his mouth, he pulled the trigger.

As simple as skin on skin,
As pure as day's first light,
No words can justify a thing,
That against all odds just might 
Save the very soul of us.
For this I'd give up the arogant
Cynical heart for one of trust
In you at least. this sentiment
Does not explain the strange wonder
Of smiles without control or laughs
That tear the darkest days asunder
 To sunny fields of cloud and calf 
And sparrows in the hedgerows green
Like lightning through rain, the path is seen. 

As I stroll beneath the multi colored leaves
of the canopy, shafts of sunlight create
a fantasy of long forgotten children’s stories,
my mind wanders, I feel free, fresh, and full of hope
ready to tackle life’s mysteries.

Have I come full circle?

Returned to the place I started?

Or is this a small reprieve from reality.
A dream maybe or one of life’s many pleasures
that seem to make all else fade away,
for a moment anyway.

http://www.charlesdennis.netne.net

© 2009 Charles Dennis

I have been in a foul mood today.  Sufficed to say that the devil made a run for it when he saw me coming his way and I shall tell you why:

I leave school in a couple of months, completing my school education and my entire A-levels and then it's onto my gap year, which i'm sure alot of you know about.  The prospect of no longer having a timetable or agenda or homework planner to work with, is a terrifying one. I like order and having so much time to think is going to suck.

Hopefully I will fill up the year with classes and courses and people and work etc, however the thought of being one of only two people in my year (I don't speak to the other person much) not going off to university haunts me. I am proud to think that I am listening to myself, and not packing myself off to do a degree in something I would not 100% benefit from, but still the idea that people will leave me behind sucks. There's no other way of defining it.

People tell me that it will be fine and that I will make new friends, but it doesn't stop me worrying.
I am also scared of failure, I have alot of high hopes and the possibility I could not get to where I want to be, (to quote matt bellamy) scares the hell out of me.

And so my mother has been putting up with me like the patron saint of motherhood, and after all that - all it took was a banana and peanut butter sandwich to cheer me up.

So any other advice? Any nice mantras or sayings or life experience to share? Or if all that fails, I will accept sugar products of all kind.

Mood For the Day 1
(For Terry and ee)

Perhaps we were in other times like
foot in shoe and wheel in wheel
and tepid verse (with haggard
rhymes) from you today would
suit me fine, your b'day
has (for me the feel) of
trading places (to take
your load) of ills and
scars with tongues on
steel of some of us
but most seem real
(We be us as to
implode); Not foot
in shoe or wheel in
wheel on this your b'day
(we've made a deal) to meet
up together on virgin road.