Little Place

Bloody days, eh? If it wasn't for the threat of vitamin D deficiency, I'd wish for it to be night all the time so that I could sleep bloody well LOADS. But that's mostly because I'm starting to worry about getting wrinkles under my eyes from a lack of good quality rest. It's important, okay guys? Please bear it in mind when you're thinking about being awake all night.

Here's the effort of day 33 anyway...

The Glass

When I look out of the window,

I could cry. Simple tears,

like those of a dog without a treat.

Haven’t we all felt this teenaged?

I’ve always been a 99% empty kinda gal.

The 1% is only there as a buffer

between the glass of my soul

and the outside that presses down on it.

Oh leaves, you don’t know anything,

you innocent bastards.

And colours, which child’s psyche

did you vomit your way out of?

I have come to unknow the world,

through all its perjury.

The sun was built to burn us,

who are we to question that?

The Strangest Dream

Hello

I'm currently surviving the day on around an hour and a half of sleep in the receipt of some rather painful news last night. Tiredness makes spelling words like tiredness really quite difficult as it turns out. Anyway, I managed to use some of that time in the dark writing today's little number. Not a talking animal in sight...think I must be coming down with something. Queue sadface.

I had planned some kind of extravaganza for the fact that I'm halfway through my challenge (yay!) but I just don't have the energy. Here, have this picture of two blobs:

Day 20, roll on two.

In Your Wake

I bob like a piece of churned up rubbish.

Your new lovers lean over the side

and vomit on me, making my struggle

for the surface that little bit more acidic.

You have set a course for sunset, and as far

as I can tell, you’re making good progress.

Is it wrong to root for icebergs?

To give my vote to stormy weather?

You were always inclined to wash over me,

but once the crest of the wave had fallen,

I was left drowning and dishevelled.

You were always a stronger swimmer than me.

Day known as One

Hello chums!

In a break with tradition, I've decided to do a bit of serious blogging for the next wee while. A thought occurred to me today as I sat puzzling over what to give up for Lent. Having already gorged on sweets and having used Facebook and my phone just as much as usual, I thought, "Hey Marianne (which is my real name for those of you who don't know me - fun fact #1, this is the first time I've said it...on this blog, not ever in my life), why give something up, when you could in fact TAKE something up, like writing a new poem on your blog every day for 40 days? You know, it might help you in your plight to become a serious poet. Or it might alienate all your avid followers who only tune in to hear you mock and belittle this wonderful world we live in, but isn't that what Lent is all about?" And I thought, "Yes, Lent IS all about alienation and poetry! I WILL write a poem every day on my blog and try to force people to read them!"

So there you have it folks, for the next 40 days I'm going to -try- and post a new poem here on the Rattle Bag (fun fact #2: The Rattle Bag is a 1982 anthology of poetry edited by Ted Hughes and Seamus Heaney and is obviously where I took the name for my beloved blog all those years ago. See, I AM really into poetry after all). There may or may not be drawings photographs along the way, only time will tell. Right now, my graphics tablet camera and I have been separated, so you'll be gettin' a whole lotta nuthin' for the next wee while at least.

Anyway, HERE IS POEM NUMBER 1. Appreciate it, or else.

On Going Back

I have found patterns

woven on these pages

enough to paper a wall

and call it nouveau.

I’ve been hiding amongst them.

I sit, lonely as a bowl of trifle

after all the children have vomited

and gone home.

I don’t want anyone to see me

like this; a cherry pip

with its flesh chewed off.

History has planed away my armour,

and every vein in every finger

lies open now like some ancient burial ground

uncovered by diggers

and optioned for a show on Discovery UK.