POETRY

Just tell them what they want to hear,
you can go about your business.

Just tell them what they want to hear,
they will look the other way.

Just tell them what they want to hear,
to defeat the opposition.

Just tell them what they want to hear,
they will let you kiss their babies.

Just tell them what they want to hear,
they want it to be true.

Just tell them what they want to hear,
it makes life easy for them.

Just tell them what they want to hear,
you can make illicit deals.

Just tell them what…

PROSE POETRY

Time and time again I stare
at glistening warm seawater held in my hands
thinking how lucky I am to have been presented
with the right life choices to act upon.

One freezing winter’s morning
in between jobs with little else to do
other than go and meet friends in Irish bars,
my phone and I both sat idle
patiently waiting to be buzzed with exciting news.

I stopped looking at the poor fella as I’m sure
my projection was affecting its performance.
Nah, that didn’t work either.

Then came the suggestion I needed; “Don’t hang around here; you have…

POETRY

An abandoned multi-billion profit-making music industry,
more so than the fishing industry which the British government
fought tooth and nail for.

Tossed into the gutter with no regard to the outcome
by a self-serving government now taken to task
by those suffering with little or no future giving up
their musical careers, something Britain could truly be proud of.

Discarded policies not even brought to the table
by a bunch of elitist snobs with no interest in the arts,
as if their mishandling of Covid 19 was not enough
to put a severe strain on the industry.

Visas, health care…

NOT POETRY

The obligatory family trip to the south of Thailand, pleasant
but far away, has seen us do normal things, not covid restriction things,
normal things. Until the stomach bug took its toll.

Was it food? Not the mothers-in-law, certainly not!
Was it the Pad Thai? Doubt it.
Was it the water? Must have been. It was the water! Ahem.

Feeling sick and not engaging makes James a dull boy.
Feeling sick and not engaging makes James a dull boy.
Feeling sick and not engaging makes James a dull boy.
Feeling sick and not engaging makes James a dull boy.

Today…

Literary Impulse & Paper Poetry “Eudaemonia” Prompt Submission

“I would love to believe that when I die I will live again, that some thinking, feeling, remembering part of me will continue. But as much as I want to believe that, and despite the ancient and worldwide cultural traditions that assert an afterlife, I know of nothing to suggest that it is more than wishful thinking.” — Carl Sagan.

I can feel it drawing me closer, universal arms shrouding me
with its mysteries playing on my mind the older I grow.

What will I become once this mortal coil is shed? Enticing my thirst to drink from this cup…

PROSE POETRY

Here in Thailand, Pad Thai is a very popular fried noodle dish,
served up in restaurants or more so as a famous
street food dish first experienced by many in the
backpackers haven the Kao San Rd Bangkok.

Vendors entice and excite the traveller with their swift
cooking skills delivering delicious Asian flavours
from their roadside carts, same as a noodle cart
where you will find the end of the night revelers,
a bit like a burger van in the west.

Wok-fried, yes a wok and a wok only, chicken or prawns with chopped small red onion, smells excellent. Throw…

TWITTLE THIS

We are all here to learn
be assured we will never know it all
many are thirsting for knowledge
and some they refuse to learn

It seems this last line is apt for those Republican senators
who have absolutely no morals what so ever,
senators, who will overturn the impeachment of the “inciter-in-chief”.

Just goes to show the lives lost on that fateful day
January the 6th 2021 at Capitol Hill,
mean nothing to those afraid of losing the extremist vote.

James G Brennan 2021.

So sorry Carolyn Hastings, I said I was going to write a humorous one for…